The Last Embrace
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: Had I known my heart would break, I would have loved you anyway. GSR CD Warning
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Yes, this is a character death piece, but it's a lot more than that, too. At least, I hope it will be. Please stick around;) I'd really appreciate it. Thanks!

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." - Henri Nouwen

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The baby was crying. There was nothing she could do about it. Her body felt heavy with her own tears. She was tired. Too exhausted to get up and be anyone's mother. Her baby's wails hurt her, but all she could do was whimper a few, false platitudes to the little girl.

"Mommy's coming, baby." She closed her eyes, and buried her face further into the pillow that no longer smelled of him. She'd changed the sheets before the call had come. The old ones were still wet in the washing machine. "Mommy's sorry."

There were so many things to do. Fortunately, there were a lot of people willing to do them for her. Had he known how beloved he was? Not just by her, but by his co-workers…his friends? They would take care of him in death. And they would try to take care of her in what currently passed for her life.

Had Doc Robbins already started the autopsy? Maybe he had assigned it to someone else. She wouldn't blame him. He had too much heart to be able to cut into a friend without emotion. She wasn't even sure why they had to do an autopsy at all. The cause of death was known. Why was there a need to open him up like a slab of…

The doorbell rang once. Then twice. The baby was still crying.

Gathering all of her strength, Sara forced herself to stand up. She ran a hand through her hair; it was limp and stringy. She didn't even want to look at her reflection in the mirror.

The baby kept crying even when she picked her up out of her playpen. "Dada," her daughter sobbed. It was all she could do to stay on her feet.

She wasn't expecting the person at the door. She wasn't even sure how she found out so soon. She hadn't called. Maybe one of them had. She'd given them her address book so they could make the appropriate notifications.

They must have called her mother. She'd been at the wedding, so they'd probably assumed she would want her mother to know. What had they told her?

_I'm sorry, but your daughter's husband had a massive heart attack. He didn't make it._

Sara stood in the open door, her year-old daughter clinging to her neck. "Mom," she whispered. "He's gone."

Laura Sidle's hands shook with the need to reach out to her grieving child. But she couldn't. Not yet.

"He's gone," Sara repeated. Her face crumpled. "I can't bring him back…"

"Oh sweetie," was all her mother could say. "I know the feeling."

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To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Having a reader's trust with their favorite characters is not something I take lightly. I promise to do my best;) Thanks for coming along with me.

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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Two years earlier

_"Cygnus."_

_"What?"_

_He brushed his thumb over the cluster of beauty marks on her protruding hip bone, smiling when she jerked with unexpected pleasure. "The constellation. Right here. No one's ever noticed it before?"_

_"Honestly, no one's ever studied me quite this thoroughly."_

_He kissed the freckled flesh. "Fools. Undeserving morons."_

_She giggled. "That tickles."_

_"I shaved," he reminded her._

_"I know." She crooked a finger at him, and he answered the call, crawling up the bed until they were face to face. "I kind of miss it."_

_"Cygnus the swan," he said in the educational tone that never ceased to thrill her. "Sometimes called the Northern Cross. Swans are heavily featured in Greek mythology. Zeus often turned himself into one in order to seduce mortal women."_

_"Proving that even with omnipotent powers, men will do just about anything for…"_

_He stopped her with a kiss. "You're beautiful."_

_"You're just glad you didn't have to turn yourself into a bird to get me into bed."_

_"There is that." He shook his head. "But you are. So beautiful." A moment passed. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."_

_"Yeah," she whispered. "So do I."_

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Laura fed her grand-daughter. She would have liked to have fed her daughter, as well, but things need to be taken one step at a time.

"Dada," the little girl said throughout her meal. It was sometimes a question, sometimes a command.

After she'd eaten, Laura changed her into pajamas and tried to put her down for a nap, but being exhausted and cranky and confused, the baby stopped cooperating with the virtual stranger.

"No!" she shouted when she was lowered into her crib. "No, no, no!"

"Cassie, it's okay." Laura picked her back up and cradled her, despite her kicking and screaming. "It's going to be okay."

It only took twenty minutes for the child to wear herself out. She fell asleep in her grandmother's arms for the first time.

Leaving Cassie in her crib, Laura left the nursery and opened doors down the hallway until she found the one that led into the master bedroom. Her daughter was curled up on the unmade bed. She wasn't moving.

"Sara," she whispered. "Are you awake?"

"No."

With a sigh, she stepped into the darkened room. "Can I get you something? Tea? Toast?"

"No."

"You need to eat. Keep up your…" The cliché died on her lips. "Cassie shouldn't see you like this."

Sara rolled over onto her other side and looked her mother straight in the eye. "Do you really think you're the one to deliver that particular piece of motherly advice?"

"Probably not," she admitted a moment later.

"Why are you even here?" She snorted into the sheets. "He practically had to drag you to our wedding. I figured I wouldn't see you for another twenty years."

Laura folded her arms over her stomach. "He was a good man."

"You barely knew him. You barely know me."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Sara lifted her hand enough to wave it dismissively. "Go. Stay. I don't care."

"Fine. Then I'm not going anywhere."

"That would be something new."

Laura looked down at the carpet for a moment. "Cassie's sleeping. What time do you usually get her up?"

"She wakes herself up. And everyone else, too." Sara murmured. "He used to call her his little alarm clock."

"Well. I'll just…pick up around the house a little until she's up." She paused. "If you need anything, let me know."

Sara said nothing until her mother was practically out the door. Her voice was so small that Laura almost didn't hear her.

"I need him."

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To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: All I can say is thanks. And...enjoy:)

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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September 1971

_"There's something about her face." The mid-wife watched the baby she'd delivered only hours earlier through a wispy cloud of pungent smoke. "Very unlucky."_

_On the other side of the room, the child's father cursed loudly. "You're tripping, Evie. Get out of here."_

_"I know this shaman in L.A." She took another drag. "He could probably cleanse her aura or something."_

_"I said get out of here!" He grabbed the woman by the arm and pushed her out the door, slamming it shut behind her. "Shit, Laura. Trust you to find the most stoned woman on the west coast to deliver our kid."_

_Laura cradled her daughter closer to her chest. "But it's okay. I mean, she's perfect…isn't she?"_

_His expression softened a bit. "Yeah, she'll do."_

_Her shoulders relaxed. Maybe everything would be all right. He hadn't laid a harsh finger on her the whole time she'd been pregnant. People changed all the time. A new baby could mean a new start for them._

_Of course, he hadn't hit her when she was pregnant with Adam, either._

_"She needs a name," Laura ventured. "We never decided on one."_

_He was already pulling on his coat. "Name her what you want. I gotta get to work."_

_"Tonight?" She bit her lip when he looked at her. "They should give you the night off."_

_"What world of fucking roses and sunshine do you live in?" he thundered. "You want me to take the night off to sit here and hold your hand? Fine. Then you figure out a way to make enough money for us to eat this week."_

_The baby started to whimper. Laura gently jostled her, praying that she'd stop before she worked her way up to actual cries. "I'm sorry," she told her husband. "I wasn't thinking."_

_"You never think, Laura." At the door, he sighed, disgusted. "It's not your strong suit, anyway."_

_The door slammed behind him, and the baby started crying._

_"Shh," she soothed, although she couldn't stop her own tears. "It'll be okay…" She paused. "…Sara." Laura smiled. "Yeah. I like that." The little girl hiccupped between sobs. "You're not unlucky," she told her daughter. "I'll make sure you're okay. I promise."_

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Sara was lying on the couch when the doorbell chimed. This time, she didn't even bother to contemplate getting up and answering it. Within a few seconds, her mother was already there.

"I know you," she heard Laura say to whoever it was. "Why do I know you?"

"Greg Sanders. We danced at the…um…the wedding."

Sara closed her eyes and silently willed the younger man away. She wasn't ready to see anyone so closely connected with the lab yet.

"Of course! Now I remember. Please..." Sara held her breath. _Don't do it, don't you dare invite…_ "Come in, Greg."

She sighed. Damn it.

"Okay. But only for a second. I just need to talk to Sara. Is she…uh…available?"

Laura hesitated. "That's a good question. Why don't you just tell me whatever you need to, and I'll…"

Sara pushed herself up into a sitting position, where she could now plainly be seen. "It's okay. I'm here."

She could see Greg's eyes widen at the sight of her. And not in a good way. How long had it been since she'd taken a real shower? He quickly looked down at his shoes and cleared his throat. "Hey, Sara."

"What's going on, Greg?"

He continued to look anywhere but straight at her. "I…um…I just thought you'd wanna know…we got that guy in Boulder City. The one who poisoned his kid?"

"I remember the case," she said softly.

"We never would've gotten him if not for…" Greg stopped at the flash of warning in her eyes. "I'm sorry." He tried again. "Catherine sends her love."

"She actually said that?"

"Well…not exactly. She did say she'd be stopping by soon, though. The…funeral home needs a suit. For him." Greg shrugged. "She wasn't sure you'd be ready to go through his stuff."

Laura had been quietly listening as she pretended to pick up the assortment of Cassie's toys that lay scattered across the carpet. At this, she spoke up. "I could do that."

Sara's reply was sharp and bitter. The resentment in her tone wasn't directed at her mother, but it came out there all the same. "Catherine knew him longer than I did. And she has better taste." She looked at Greg. "Tell her to call before she drops by."

He swallowed. "Yeah. Of course. I'm…um…sorry about that." He glanced at Laura, who gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'll get out of your hair now." He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and turned back to her. "Sara, you're not feeling all this stuff alone, you know. We loved him, too. We miss him." Greg's smile was lopsided and sad. "We miss you."

Her only reply to this was to flop back down onto the couch, disappearing from view once more. She heard the door open and close, and then there was sweet silence.

Laura waited a few minutes before she approached the couch. Sara's eyes were closed, but she could sense her mother's presence. Smell the light scent of roses and honeysuckle that even six years in prison hadn't taken from her.

"You know," she began, sitting on the arm of the couch. "When your father died…"

"Died?" Sara challenged.

She was quiet for a moment. "He did die, Sara."

"He had some help getting there."

Sara could almost hear her counting to ten before continuing. "All right. You're not ready to talk yet."

Her eyes opened. "I'll talk. But not in euphemisms. Not until you can say the actual words. As unpleasant as they might be." Sara closed them again.

"I'm sorry, but it seems strange for you to accuse me of not using actual words when I have yet to hear you speak your husband's name. Or let anyone else speak it." Laura stood up. "If you're not careful, Cassie will grow up thinking it's a dirty word."

Sara's reply was muffled by the couch. "At least she'll stop crying for him."

"Say his name, Sara. Just once." Laura waited a few seconds. "One time. Just say it."

"I'm going to take a shower." Sara heaved herself off the sofa in one fluid motion. "If Cassie wakes up before I'm out…"

"I know the drill." Her mother crossed her arms. "All things in their own time. But can I just say…you're doing his memory a great disservice. He deserves better than this."

Sara started for the stairs. "When you can say 'I killed your father,' I'll talk about Nick."

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To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I live by the motto "things are not always what they seem." Enjoy, and thanks!

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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March 1998

_"I recommend the cheese." Sara waited for the man to turn away from the buffet before holding out her hand. "Sara Sidle. CSI I, San Francisco."_

_It took him a second to reach for her offered hand. "Gil Grissom. You were at the lecture this afternoon."_

_She sincerely hoped her cheeks weren't turning pink with pleasure. "Yeah, I was the one who asked about the mitochondrial DNA."_

_"It was an intelligent question."_

_"And you gave me an intelligent answer. Thanks."_

_Their hands were still clasped. They both realized it at the same time, and broke apart quickly._

_He cleared his throat. "So, what's special about this cheese?"_

_Sara blinked. She'd almost forgotten about the cheese, her carefully thought-out excuse to strike up a conversation with him. "Um…well, it's good."_

_"Gouda?"_

_"No, I said…" She stopped when he started smiling. Shaking her head, she muttered, "I can't believe I missed that one."_

_"I'm a little surprised myself," he admitted. "It wasn't a great effort on my part."_

_Suddenly, Sara wished she'd paid more attention to the rules of flirting, as outlined by her college roommate freshman year. She shook her hair back and gave it her best shot, anyway. "Maybe it's me. Maybe you're funnier in Vegas."_

_His smile turned wry. "I have to admit, humor is not my strong suit. In any city." He eyed her. "Or in any company."_

_"But you opened with that bug joke," she reminded him. "I laughed."_

_"You're kind, Ms. Sidle."_

_"Sara. Just Sara."_

_He nodded. "Sara."_

_"Do you want to go somewhere?" she blurted out. "Maybe get some coffee? Real coffee, not the sludge in the big dispensers."_

_A moment slipped by as he considered her offer. "Will we be missed?"_

_Together, they glanced around the university ballroom, and came to the same realization. _

_She reached for the plate of cheese wedges. "Let's go, Dr. Grissom."_

_"Grissom," he corrected her. "Just Grissom."_

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The suit Catherine selected had been Nick's favorite. He never wore it to court, not wanting to taint it with anything work-related. Instead, he saved it for special occasions like Christmas Eve services and Valentine's Day dinners.

Sara stared at it. Lying across their bed like that, she could almost imagine that Nick himself had set it out. That they were getting ready for an event of some sort. That he was only in the shower, and would be coming out to get dressed at any moment.

Catherine's voice interrupted her imagination. "There are a few more things I'm gonna need to get. Um…socks?" She hesitated. "And it's slightly surreal, but underwear, too."

"First and second drawers," Sara whispered. "Take a pair of boxers. He only kept the briefs to annoy me. I hated them."

"I don't blame you. There's something so…pedophilic about them." She opened the drawer and selected a simple pair of black boxers. The top drawer revealed socks; again, she stuck with basic black.

"Have they finished the autopsy?"

Sara's question was hoarse. Catherine walked over to the bed and set the boxer and socks onto the suit, taking her time before answering. "Report came in this afternoon."

"And?"

She shook her head. "Nothing we didn't know. Heart attack."

Sara swallowed. "He was thirty-seven."

"He also had a highly stressful job and a family history of heart disease." Catherine sighed. "And let's not forget his addiction to Double-Doubles."

"He ran every day around the block. He went to the gym three times a week. He talked me…me, the vegetarian…into increasing my fiber intake. It just…" She sank down onto the edge of the bed. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't," Catherine agreed, gingerly sitting down next to Sara. "You know…I got a call yesterday. From Tennessee." She paused. "He wants to come to the funeral."

The stiffness in her shoulders gave her away, even as she managed to keep her voice steady. "He doesn't need my permission."

"You know him. He doesn't want to make things any worse for you."

Sara fingered the cuff of Nick's suit jacket. "When did he start worrying about my feelings?"

Catherine looked at her for a minute. "He always has, Sara. Even when he left…"

She was abruptly cut off. "I don't want to talk about him. Not while I'm sitting next to what my husband is going to be buried in." Sara briefly nibbled on her thumbnail. "Tell him it's fine if he comes. He should come. Nick respected him. Considered him a friend and mentor." She closed her eyes. "God, I miss him..."

Because she wasn't sure who Sara was talking about, Catherine just put an arm around her shoulders and nodded. "Me, too."

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To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone for all the kind reviews. And a double, nay, triple shot of thanks to PhDelicious, for being my beta for this chapter, and maybe more to come;)

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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July 1978

_"Hey, kids! Check this out."_

_Laura looked up from her magazine in time to see her children abandon their sand castle and run over to their father. Adam got there first, but Sara wasn't too far behind him. She was tall for six, going on seven, with limbs that were already gangly. Her hair, which had been neatly parted and braided that morning, at Sara's own insistence, now hung in two messy ropes down her back._

_Her daughter was a perfect little mess of rough-and-tumble boy and fairy princess, and possessed a smile that, Laura was convinced, could light up the world._

_That light was becoming rarer._

_She continued to watch as her family gathered around one of the many tidal pools along the rocky stretch of beach where they were spending a lazy Saturday afternoon. She had to squint to see what her husband had pulled out of the water._

_"See this?" she heard him ask the children. "It's a mermaid's purse."_

_"Whoa!" Adam exclaimed, easily enchanted by anything his father told him. "Neat!"_

_Her husband smiled at this, and for a moment, it really was a perfect afternoon. Laura was just about to return her attention to her magazine, when she heard Sara's voice speak up._

_"It's not a purse, Daddy," she said matter-of-factly. "It's a shark egg. There was a baby shark inside."_

_Even from a distance, Laura knew the look that suddenly darkened her husband's face. "You don't believe me, kiddo?"_

_"Mrs. Murphy has this book about sharks," Sara went on, unaware and so eager to share something she'd learned from her beloved teacher. "I read it and it said that shark sometimes have their babies live and sometimes they lay eggs. The book had a picture just like that." She pointed to the object in her father's hand._

_Laura watched with glassy eyes as her daughter flinched when he closed his hand around the shark's egg, destroying it. For a moment, it looked like he might make use of his newly formed fist. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the surprised look on Sara's face. She was still capable of being surprised by his anger. With a sharp curse, her husband threw the mangled egg case back into the tidal pool and stalked away._

_Adam stuck his tongue out at his little sister. "Dumb know-it-all!" he taunted her, before running after their father._

_By the time Sara reached their makeshift picnic area, Laura was deep into pretending that she'd been reading the whole time, and had missed the exchange. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her daughter sit on her towel and pull her knees up to her chest. The roar of the waves was loud, but not deafening enough to drown out Sara's little voice._

_"One times one is one. One times two is two. One times three is three…"_

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Nick's family arrived en masse.

Sara liked them, she really did. They were perfect. But there were just so many of them. Sisters and brothers-in law…nieces and nephews whose names and ages she never quite got down. Still, family gatherings at the huge Texas spread where Nick had grown up had been slowly getting easier for her.

But now Nick was gone, and she'd lost her stabilizing island in the sea of chaos that his relatives couldn't help but create. It was just her and Cassie amidst all the grief and sympathy.

It didn't help matters that his living will stated that he wanted to be buried in Las Vegas, and not in the Stokes family plot. No one said anything to her, but Sara knew they all suspected it was her doing rather than his final wish. Texas was his home, he'd always said, but Las Vegas where was his heart beat. She didn't blame them for not understanding that. It had taken her a long time to believe him, as well.

The day before the funeral, she met Nick's mother at the children's store in the mall to pick out what Cassie would wear to the service. There were, not surprisingly, very few dark dresses for little girls, especially just before Easter. But her mother-in-law was nothing if not a dedicated and decorated shopper, so they pressed on.

It was only during a much-needed Starbucks break that they actually talked for the first time since she'd called with the news. The hardest phone call of her life, from which Sara had yet to fully recover.

Jillian Stokes added sugar to her decaf latte. "I'm sorry your mother couldn't join us. I have to say, I was surprised to see her here. I always got the impression you weren't close."

"We're not really." Sara handed Cassie her juice cup. In the comfort of her stroller, her daughter was quiet for the moment. "The last time I saw her was at the wedding."

"I know. Nick told me." Her son's name overpowered the conversation, and there was silence until she regained control. "He was so happy that day, Sara."

She nodded tightly. "Yeah."

"He loved you very much. You know that, right? He told you? Told Cassie?"

Sara sipped her coffee, burning her tongue. "She'll need to be reminded, but he didn't let a day go by without telling her he loved her."

"And you?"

"I knew," was all Sara said.

Jillian let out a shaky sigh. "My son wasn't much of a mystery, was he?"

"Trust me," Sara whispered. "It was part of his appeal."

"When he was kidnapped, I prayed for just a little more time with him. And I guess…God took me literally." Her mother-in-law dissolved into tears which she tried to hide behind her hand.

Sara swallowed a lump in her throat as she looked down at her daughter. Cassie grinned, showing off her sprouting baby teeth. "Mama," she said, dropping her sippy cup. "Uh-oh!"

"Uh-oh," Sara tried to echo with the same surprise and wonder. She was afraid she fell miserably short of her mark. However, the baby didn't seem to care. She clapped in delight when her mother fetched her cup. She was so happy, in fact, that she dropped it again, just to see what would happen.

Instead of handing the cup back for another round, Sara plucked Cassie out of her stroller and kissed her chubby cheek. "Jillian," she said gently. "I need to find a bathroom. Will you take her?"

Nick's mother looked at her granddaughter, and smiled through her tears. "Of course." She reached for the little girl and once she had her, held her close. "Oh…" she murmured into Cassie's curls. "I can still hold a piece of Nick. My own baby…"

Sara stood up on weak legs. Her coffee wasn't settling well, and she fled for the peace of the mall's restroom.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Muchos, muchos gracias to my awesome beta, PhDelicious. And thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, even through the site's temporary meltdown.

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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May 2005

_"You were brilliant."_

_Grissom lifted his head and looked at the woman sitting on the other side of the hospital bed. "Many parts contributed to this whole."_

_"And he's modest, too, ladies." Sara smiled awkwardly. "A winning combination."_

_In the bed, Nick stirred, but the combination of medications on which they had him ensured that he remained asleep. The ant bites up and down his arms and on his face were angry and red. He'd been through the worst kind of hell. But he was alive._

_"Sara."_

_She looked at Grissom. There was desperation in his stare that she'd never seen before. Not even when their eyes had met through the glass and metal barrier of a locked nurses' station window. It scared her as much as it thrilled her._

_"It could have been you."_

_Sara didn't flinch. "I could say the same thing. Any of us could."_

_Grissom's eyes were red with unshed emotion. "If it had been you…" He trailed off._

_"You would have saved me," she said, with absolute conviction._

_He shook his head. "Sara, if it had been you, I would have been too far gone to even function."_

_The clock on the wall counted out a whole minute before she could speak. "Grissom…if this isn't leading to something, you have to stop."_

_"Are you still interested in having dinner with me?"_

_Her breath caught in the back of her throat. "Okay. That's something."_

_Another minute slipped by before she leaned across Nick's sleeping body and touched her lips to Grissom's._

_When she pulled back, his eyes were closed. "I'll take that as a yes."_

_"I should tell you 'no'." She tilted her head to the side, suddenly able to be amused by the memory, rather than freshly wounded. "Just so you know how it feels."_

_Grissom smiled. "Like I've always said, Ms. Sidle…you're kind."_

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Laura hated funerals. If she'd had any say in the matter, her husband wouldn't have even had one. Just a simple cremation and a ritual scattering of his ashes in the waves of the Pacific. Unfortunately, when you're in a mental institution under observation because you solved your martial difficulties with a carving knife, no one bothers to ask for your input in regards to your husband's burial.

She believed in celebrating life, not wallowing in death. Black clothes, white flowers, solemn hymns, tearful goodbyes…it was all she could do to sit with Sara through the first part service. Not that her daughter noticed her. Or anything, really. She sat with Cassie on her lap, staring at her husband's profile in the open casket. When Laura murmured that she needed to excuse herself for a moment, Sara's chin dipped just low enough to indicate that she'd heard.

The vestibule of the church was blissfully, reverently silent. She drew in several deep breaths before fumbling in her handbag for a cigarette and a lighter. It was a bad habit she'd picked up in prison; she only indulged occasionally, when she needed to relax.

As Laura lit up, she noticed the man standing a few feet away, looking up at the stained glass windows. She had the instant thought that he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. And suddenly, she was curious why.

"It's a beautiful church," she said, drawing the man's attention.

"It is," he agreed.

She inhaled and blew out a cloud of smoke. "Did you know Nick well?"

His smile was sad. "I was his boss for almost ten years."

She tapped ash off her cigarette into a potted plant. "He was my son-in-law."

The man really looked at her for the first time. "You're Sara's mother."

"Yeah. Laura Sidle." Laura frowned. "Have we met?"

"No." He hesitated before holding out his hand. "Gil Grissom." He paused, as if waiting for some recognition. When none came, his mouth set in a resigned line. "She's never mentioned me."

She transferred her cigarette to her other hand in order to shake his. "My daughter and I have been…well, I guess estranged would be the nicest word for it…for a long time." A thought occurred to her. "If you were Nick's boss…"

"Yes, I was her boss, too." He cleared his throat. "How…how is she doing?"

Laura didn't delude herself into believing that she was smart. There was a whole lot in the world that she didn't know anything about. But what she did know was how to read people. Maybe it was a genetic gift, like Sara's intelligence. Or maybe it was simply the product of having to read every nuance of her husband's face, to know whether it would be a good night, or one that ended at the hospital.

Regardless, she knew, without much doubt in her mind, that this man was straining to ask his question about Sara without any emotion. Unfortunately, he'd failed. His posture changed when she was mentioned. His blue eyes became darker. He had feelings for her daughter. And they probably weren't what a boss usually felt for an employee.

A good amount of ash gathered on her cigarette as she considered how to answer his question honestly, and at the same time, maybe prod him into revealing something.

"She's devastated. Not that I can blame her. Nick was probably the best thing to ever happen to her, and he just gets ripped away one day. Heart attack at thirty-seven." She tapped the ash away with a dramatic sigh that wasn't entirely faked. "Where's the justice in that?"

"There is none," was his quiet answer.

She agreed by nodding as she took another puff. "So, can I ask why you're out here instead of in there?" When he gave no reply, Laura went on. Sometimes people relaxed if you gave off the same casual impression. "Me? I hate funerals. I didn't even go to Sara's father's. What's your excuse, Mr. Grissom?"

With his hands in his pockets, he looked down at the wood floor for a long moment. "I don't have one. It just seems…safer out here."

"Who's in there that you're afraid of?" He flinched slightly, and this only encouraged her. She was heading down the right path. "Can't be Nick. If you do the same work they do, you can't have issues with dead bodies."

A smile briefly touched his face. He was handsome. Too young for her by a number of years, and probably too old for her daughter by a few more. "Certain bodies are more difficult to deal with. And the living..." His smile withered and died. "Even more so."

Laura watched him through a curl of smoke. The pieces were starting to come together, and they formed a picture of a strange, sad man, doomed to fall into unrequited love with a younger woman who worked for him, while she herself was already in love with a man her own age, who also happened to work for him. It was tragic, really. No wonder he felt uncomfortable in the church.

"Well, maybe you'll work up the courage to go to the cemetery," she said. "Sara needs all of her friends right now to get her through this." She hoped her emphasis on the word 'friends' wasn't too pointed. But he didn't need to get any ideas about comforting a grieving widow.

"Sara's strong. She can survive anything."

The way he said that confused her. Resigned belief with a touch of bitterness. "You sound awful certain about that," she pressed.

"I've witnessed her resilience first hand." His resentment lay bare in front of her, no longer hidden behind a cheerless smile. The power of it startled her more than the double doors that led into the sanctuary swinging open.

The service was over, and the mourners in the back of the church started to file out. Laura stubbed out her cigarette in the plant she'd been using as an ash try. When she looked up again, Gil Grissom was gone.

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: More thanks to PhDelicious for her beta-ing. And, as always, for your interest in my story;)

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------**

December 1981

_"Ma'am, can you tell me what happened?"_

_Her jaw ached with each movement as she replied to the young officer's question. "I tripped on the hallway rug. Went right down on the edge of the banister."_

_"And that's how you sustained the injury to your eye." He made a note of this. "What about your arm?"_

_Laura looked down at the sling that was immobilizing her recently dislocated shoulder. "Must have twisted when I tried to stop my fall."_

_Telling a lie was like working a muscle. They got stronger with time and practice._

_Even though he was a rookie, the cop wasn't stupid. "The doctors say this isn't your first accidental fall, Mrs. Sidle."_

_"What can I tell you?" She could still taste blood in her mouth. "I've never been really graceful." The nurse who was tending to her exchanged a look with the officer. Laura closed her uninjured eye; the other was already swollen shut. "Where are my kids?"_

_"They're fine. Another nurse took them upstairs," her nurse told her. "They're having a party for the children on the pediatric floor."_

_The officer cleared his throat. "Well, I guess we're done. Unless you have anything to add. Mrs. Sidle?"_

_"No," she whispered. "It was an accident."_

_"Right." Nodding at the nurse, he started for the door, but stopped at the last second. "Hell of a way to spend Christmas Eve. 'Specially for kids." Laura looked away, and he sighed. "See you next time."_

_Once he was gone, the nurse finished her own notes and hung the chart at the end of the exam bed. "Get some rest," she said. She was polite, but not warm. Like most ER nurses. "I'll be back to check your vitals."_

_Laura waited a full five minutes after the nurse drew the curtain back around her bed before she slipped out of it. Her head spun, but it cleared after a moment, and she set out in search of the elevators._

_She could hear children's laughter before the doors even opened. Just around the corner from the nurses' station, the party was in full swing. Santa Claus held court, handing out presents to boys and girls, most of whom were hooked up to portable IV stands._

_It took her a second to locate her own children. Adam had separated himself from the party, preferring instead to watch television on the other side of the waiting room. He was thirteen and hadn't believed in Santa Claus for years._

_But Sara had only just turned ten a few months earlier. She still wanted to believe. Laura saw that plainly now, as she watched her daughter hesitantly inch her way through the flock of children who swarmed around St. Nick._

_When it was her turn, Santa picked Sara up and set her on his knee. "Ho ho ho! And what's your name, little girl?"_

_"Sara Sidle."_

_"Sara. Have you been good this year?"_

_Her little forehead scrunched up in deep thought. "I think so. But sometimes I make Daddy mad."_

_Santa looked uncomfortable. This wasn't part of the usual dialogue. "What do you want for Christmas, Sara?"_

_She considered this for another second. With her hands cupped around her mouth, she whispered something into Santa's ear. Something that made his jolly expression sag._

_Having finished her request, Sara looked up at him expectantly._

_"Well, Sara…" Santa cleared his throat. "There's only so much my elves can do." He reached into his big bag and pulled out a colorfully wrapped package. "Here. Merry Christmas."_

_A light died in her daughter's eyes. And it hurt Laura worse than any of the punches she'd taken that night._

_Sara slid off Santa's lap. Her sandals slapped against the floor as she marched to the nearest trash can and threw her present away. When school started again, she was sent to the principal for the first time ever for telling her entire class that Santa Claus wasn't real. _

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Nick's parents took Cassie after the wake. The whole Stokes clan would be leaving in the morning, and they wanted as much time with her as possible. Sara had no objections. Cassie adored her grandparents, and loved being around her cousins. She was so much like Nick in that regard. A little social butterfly.

When the last guest had gone, leaving behind food and condolences, Sara looked at her mother. "We're out of milk," she said. "I'm going to go get some."

Laura wasn't fooled. Sara didn't really care.

The sun had shone throughout the interment, but now clouds had gathered in the sky, and it threatened to rain on the freshly filled-in grave. The marker was simple, at his request. No Bible passages or melodramatic messages. Just his full name and two dates.

She should have gone back to her car when she felt the first drops. But she stayed rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave Nick to the elements just yet. Soon, she was soaked and shivering.

The umbrella came out of nowhere, shielding her from the storm. Sara blinked water out of her eyes and looked up at the man holding it over her head.

"He wouldn't want you to get sick," Warrick said. "What are you doing here?"

"The house is so quiet," she said a moment later. "I never realized…how alive he made everything around him. Just by being there."

"Yeah. I know."

Sara's teeth chattered ever so slightly. Somehow Warrick managed to shrug out of his coat and drape it over her shoulders, while keeping the umbrella lifted.

"Thanks." They stood in silence for several minutes, until Sara spoke again. "I know that you know…everything."

"I know enough."

"I loved him, Warrick. Maybe we didn't get off on the most traditional foot, but…" She looked down at her shoes. "He wasn't a replacement. When I was with him…I was with him. No one else." The lump in her throat was painful. "Please tell me he knew that."

Warrick released a pent-up breath. "You know…you could've knocked me on my ass with feather when he told me you were pregnant and that the two of you were getting married. But you can't fake the kind of happy he was about all of it. He loved you, Sara. He adored Cassie. What more is there to say?"

Her lower lip trembled, but it wasn't from the cold. "We started our life together with questions…but he never asked any of them. Not even the big one, Warrick."

"He didn't have to. He didn't care about the details, Sara." Warrick paused. "What he saw was that someone he cared about was suffering. If Nick had one purpose in the world, it was to help people, especially the people he loved. Did he help you?"

Sara nodded tightly. "He made me smile when I thought I never would again."

"There's your answer. He knew." Warrick looked down at her. "Let's go." He looked down at the freshly turned earth. "Nick's not here. He's somewhere better. And probably a little pissed off that I haven't gotten you out of the rain yet."

Putting his arm around her shoulder, he tried to lead her away. But her mind was elsewhere, and she couldn't bring herself to move just yet.

"Grissom didn't come, did he?" She tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. "Catherine said he was coming…did you see him?"

"No. But I wasn't holding my breath." Warrick cocked his head towards their cars.

Sara glanced back at her husband's final resting place as they walked away. "Neither was I."

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: PhDelicious rocks, as usual, for all her help. Actually, you all rock for sticking with me through this slightly out of the ordinary story;)

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

October 2005

_"Can I ask you something?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Am I suffocating you?"_

_Grissom's hand stilled on her breast. "That's been on your mind all this time?"_

_"On and off," she admitted._

_A moment passed. "Not every comment I make has to do with us, Sara."_

_Frowning slightly, she rolled fully onto her back to see him better. "How do I know the difference?"_

_"Start with the assumption that when I'm working, my mind is on the case…" His lips skirted the length of her collarbone. "And nothing but the case."_

_"So…" Sara looked up at the ceiling, willing her body not to respond to him. "When do you think about us?"_

_Under the sheets, he worked his hand up the flesh of her inner thigh. "I'm not thinking about much else right now…"_

_"Stop!" Sara pushed at his chest and struggled to sit up. "I want to know."_

_He was genuinely confused. "What's this about?"_

_She took her time answering. "Catherine said something…that I can't get out of my head."_

_Grissom sighed when she repeated the older woman's words about co-workers and lovers. "Even Catherine puts her foot in her mouth every now and then."_

_"Can't really blame her," Sara murmured. "It's not like she knows we're…whatever we are."_

_"What are we, Sara?"_

_"That's not my question to answer."_

_He frowned. "Yet…I'm supposed to?" His sigh punctured the silence that followed. "This is why I can't think about us at work. I can't be your lover there."_

_"See, for me…" Sara whispered. "You're my lover all the time."_

_"Sara…"_

_"And it's only there that you have to be my co-worker, too." She shook her head. "Maybe that's the difference between the sexes." Their eyes met. "Or maybe just between you and me."_

_Grissom touched her cheek. "You're a lot more to me than just those two options."_

_Sara closed her eyes at the warmth of his hand. "Next time we're at a scene…just try to remember that I'm there. And that I'm thinking like someone who works with you and lo…" She caught herself. "…sleeps with you. Even if you can't."_

_"I promise to curb the unintentional innuendo." He let his fingers trail down her throat to the soft swell of her breast. "But really…do I seem like a man who's suffocating?"_

_A smile snuck onto her face. "Right now you just seem like a man."_

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The phone rang just as Laura placed the last of the dinner dishes in the washer. Sara was upstairs giving Cassie a bath. It was two days after the funeral, and although her daughter's world would never go back to normal, Laura was beginning to see signs of life.

She reached for the kitchen extension at the same time Sara must have picked up the cordless line upstairs in the bathroom. "Hello?" she heard her daughter greet the person on the other end.

Laura had every intention of hanging up…until she heard the caller's response. "Sara. It's me."

"How did you get this number?" Sara asked after a long moment of silence.

"Catherine," he replied. His voice was very familiar, but Laura couldn't quite place it.

"She told me you'd called her about the funeral." There was the slightest tremble in her words. Only someone paying very close attention would have noticed. "But you didn't come."

His reply was quiet, and suddenly she realized where she knew his voice from. "I was there."

"You were?" There was hope behind her skepticism.

Gil Grissom paused. "I cared about him, too, Sara."

Laura didn't have to be upstairs to know her daughter was losing a battle with her tears. "I know. Don't you think I'm aware of what I did? To you both?"

"I didn't say that to…" He thought better of his words. "I don't know why I said that."

Give me more, Laura wanted to scream. But all she could do was to keep listening.

A moment slipped by. "Gil…" Sara started. She was interrupted by a splash of water and Cassie calling for her. "Hold on, baby," Sara told her daughter. "Show Mommy how you make Ducky float."

"She's talking," he said, tonelessly. "Nick must have been very proud of her."

Sara chose not to reply to this. "I should go. Before she floods the entire bathroom." There was another pause. "When are you heading back to Tennessee?"

"I'm already back. I only have one class this semester. Monday mornings."

"Nothing starts a week like an hour at the Farm," Sara said. The lightness in her words didn't seem to fit everything else, like she was putting on a sweater that was five sizes too big for her.

Gil Grissom cleared his throat. "I should have talked to you at the funeral. The phone just seemed…"

"Easier. Yeah." Cassie's splashes grew louder and more insistent. "It's not your fault," Sara told him softly. "But the next time you're in town…we should talk. Really talk."

"All right," he agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "Sara, I just want you to know…"

Her granddaughter's voice came to her in surround sound, through the phone, and also from upstairs. "Mama!"

"I'm sorry," Sara apologized. "She's mad at me. She doesn't understand why Nick's…not around."

"She's not the only one," he said. There was hesitation, like he wasn't quite willing to let her go just yet. "Next time, Sara."

Laura heard a click as he hung up. But before she lowered the receiver from her ear, she heard Sara murmur, "Next time."

When her daughter came downstairs an hour later, Laura looked up from the romance novel she'd only been half-reading. Sara stopped in the kitchen to pour herself a glass of soy milk. How she could drink the stuff straight was completely beyond Laura. She came into the living room, sat down and picked up one of her journals as if nothing more than Cassie's bedtime routine had taken place upstairs.

The tremble in her hand as she turned the pages betrayed her.

"I heard the phone ring," Laura said.

Sara closed up one journal and reached for another. "One of Nick's fraternity brothers." She opened it hard enough to tear the first page. "The grief goes on."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each of them pretending to be engrossed in their reading materials. Finally, Laura set her book aside and leaned forward. She could see Sara trying to ignore her, but she wasn't so easily dissuaded.

Finally, Sara looked at her impatiently. "What?"

"I killed your father."

The journal slipped out of her hands. A rapid succession of emotions flitted across her daughter's face. There was a struggle there, between the little girl who hadn't been protected, the teenager who'd known nothing but betrayal and expected nothing else, and the woman who'd never learned how to harden her heart, and still had the ability to be hurt.

Sara's breath came in shallow, ragged gulps. She was unable to speak for a long time. But when was finally able to find her voice, she followed through with her part of their deal. A truth for a truth.

"I'm not sure who Cassie's father is."

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: This one's for my chat gals;) Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

November 1984

_"Tell me about that night, Laura."_

_"I thought you said we could talk about whatever I wanted."_

_The psychiatrist nodded slowly. "Yes. But you didn't start talking." There was a long pause. "Laura, I thought we'd moved past this. In the month you've been here, you've made some real progress in coming to terms with what happened. Let's not step backwards now." _

_Laura wrapped her arms around her chest. The cotton of the pants and top they'd provided for her was stiff and rough with too much starch. She wanted to rip them off and burn them. Anything but sit here and be forced to talk about her life. But that probably wouldn't go over too well. Or help her get out of here any faster. Not that jail was a better alternative than the wacky ward. But her lawyer said she was suffering from a syndrome, and that if she got any jail time, it wouldn't be much._

_Maybe she just wasn't used to anyone giving a damn about what she had to say._

_"I miss my kids," she said after a long moment._

_The woman crossed her legs. "Adam and Sara. Tell me about them."_

_"Adam's almost grown; he's more like this stranger who stops by occasionally to eat. But Sara…" Laura looked out the barred window. "She's coming here, you know? For a visit."_

_"That's something to look forward to," the shrink said._

_"I guess." The sky outside was cloudy, Laura noted. Rain was on its way. "I don't want her to see me here. She's seen enough."_

_Glancing down at her files, the psychiatrist nodded. "She was there that night. Wasn't she?"_

_"I'm not talking about that night," Laura snapped. "Got it?"_

_"Besides yourself, who are you protecting by not talking about it?" When Laura said nothing, the woman sighed. "What happens fifteen years from now when your daughter asks about that night?"_

_"With any luck, she won't."_

_"She's not a child, but she's still very young. If she doesn't hear it from you, all she'll have is her own undoubtedly spotty memories, colored by whatever she's heard from DCF workers and foster parents. Wouldn't you rather she know the whole truth?"_

_Laura rested her forehead on the cool glass pane. "Maybe I don't want her to ever understand where I was that night. My daughter shouldn't ever know how it feels to be so unwilling to take another beating…that you'd grab a knife and…" She bit her lip. "Fuck! How do you head-shrinkers always get your way?"_

_The psychiatrist waited patiently._

_She let go of a breath she'd been holding for a long time. "That night…I burned dinner."_

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

On her first night back at work, Sara carried a box under her arm. Everyone she passed along the hallway knew what it was for; most of them ducked their heads and murmured quick apologies before hurrying off.

The locker room was empty, a blessing as far as she was concerned. She was even tempted to see if the door could be bolted shut, so she would be guaranteed absolute privacy as she cleared out Nick's locker.

She turned the combination by heart and paused a second, gathering her strength before continuing.

There were several pictures taped to the inside of the metal door. They were layered, their corners overlapping, so they formed a reverse time line. Sara pulled them down one by one, curling the excess tape into a neat little ball.

The most recent was Cassie taking her first steps. On the day she'd started to pull herself up onto her feet, Nick had started keeping a camera within arm's distance at all times, determined to capture the major milestone on film. And he had succeeded. He'd snapped the photo just as Cassie had broken away from Sara and started toddling towards him, beaming from ear to tiny ear.

She took down a few more in the same vein, including a picture of Nick holding Cassie just after her birth. He was wearing hospital scrubs; the baby was so small against his chest. And the way he looked down at her, the impossibly small human being who had come out of Sara's own body …it was nothing short of pure, miraculous wonderment.

A wallet-sized copy of their wedding portrait went into the box next. She hadn't wanted a professional photographer, but Nick's parents had insisted and paid, so she'd given in. Of course, the pictures were beautiful, but Sara secretly preferred the ones that their friends had taken with provided, disposable cameras.

The last picture she took down was, to her knowledge, the first that had been taken of them together. Not as friends, but as a couple. He had his arm around her shoulders, but not in a casual, meaningless way. There was fledgling attachment in the embrace that even now made her stomach churn with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort.

Once the photos had been removed, Sara started on the shelves. She took Nick's crime scene vest off its hanger and ran her thumb over his embroidered surname. She hadn't taken it, and he hadn't pressed the issue. Although part of her had wanted to shed her father's name and take on a new one, deep down she knew that changing your life wasn't as easy as that. So, she'd stayed Sara Sidle. But every now and then, usually when she was too tired or too sated to argue, he'd called her Mrs. Stokes. Sara folded the vest in half and laid it in the box.

Into the box went a bottle of shampoo, a razor, shaving cream, a bar of soap and a comb. He kept an extra set of clothes in his locker, and the shirt still smelled his aftershave. She lifted the collar up to her face and breathed in her last scent of him.

And then her chore was done. She sat down next to the half-filled box and took a breath. Nick would always be a part of this place. So why did she suddenly feel like she'd cleared him away?

Greg found her still sitting there twenty minutes later.

"Sara." He approached her cautiously. "Shift's about to start."

She looked up at him with wet eyes. "Thanks."

Without peeking inside of it, Greg sat down on the other side of the box. "I'm glad you're back."

"Catherine told me to take a few more days, but…" Sara lifted one shoulder. "It's not going to be any easier to be here in seventy-two hours."

"Maybe…you shouldn't go out in the field," Greg said, wisely hesitant about making the suggestion.

But Sara just shook her head. "I want to work. And then I want to go home and be with my daughter."

"And then come back and do it all over again?" He glanced at her. "How about if between the two, we catch some breakfast? Frank's has a new special. Southwest omlette. It's truly, wonderfully disgusting."

"Not yet, Greg. But thanks." She stood and picked up the box. "I can't make a habit out of seeking shelter every time I lose something." Sara started for the door with her surprisingly heavy burden. "It only ends up hurting everyone."

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to my awesome beta;) And thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing.

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

Kristen Elizabeth

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------**

August 2006

_"It's only for three days. You'll barely have time to miss me."_

_Lying on her stomach on his bed, watching him pack, Sara felt like a teenager. The pout she couldn't quite keep off her face didn't help matters. She wanted to act her age, be mature, accept the situation with grace and dignity._

_But her inner child was screaming at the top of its lungs._ My boyfriend is going away again and he won't take me with him!

_"What's this seminar on?" she managed to ask, almost completely casually. "I'd have thought you'd have run out of topics by now, considering this is the fifth lecture you've given there. In the past three months."_

_He either didn't catch the bitterness in her words, or chose to ignore it. "The carpet beetle and its role in the decomp process." Grissom paused. "Sara, where's my grey tie?"_

_"I don't know," she lied. The last place he would ever think to look would be in the drawer she'd appropriated when she'd started spending more nights at his place than at hers. "I hope they realize how lucky they are to get you there so much."_

_He replied from inside his closet, as he searched fruitlessly through his ties for a second time. "I'm happy to help them out. There aren't many universities that offer a degree in forensic entomology. When I was in school, I couldn't even get a degree in basic entomology. Just general bio with a special interest in bugs." He came out of the closet with a frustrated frown. "I wonder if it got mixed into the dry cleaning."_

_Sara slid off the bed and came up behind him. "You know, I've never been to New Orleans." She slipped her arms around his waist, hugging his comfortable middle. "They can't hold you hostage in a lecture room for all three days. We could see some of the city. The French Quarter survived the hurricane, so…"_

_He turned around and kissed her forehead. "As tempting as that is, don't you think it would look a little suspicious if we both disappeared at the same time?"_

_She stood still for a long moment after he moved away to continue packing. When she finally looked at him again, it was through a film of hot tears._

_Crying made her feel even less her age, but she couldn't make the feelings that fueled the tears go away. He had no idea how badly his thoughts came out sometimes. If he did, she knew he'd do everything in his power to make it up. But he was just Grissom, and if she didn't tell him what was bothering her, he might never know._

_"So…how much longer are we planning on keeping all of this a secret?"_

_He glanced over at her. "Sara?"_

_"It's been a year, Gris. Over a year." Sara looked up at the ceiling and blinked away the evidence. "Discretion's important, but…" She inhaled slowly, collecting herself. "I know. This is what we agreed had to happen if we were going to be together. I just…it's hard..." She shook her head. "I'm sorry."_

_"I would take you with me if I could, Sara." Grissom looked down into his suitcase for a second. "And please don't think that I wouldn't like to walk into work tonight and tell anyone who would listen that I've spent the last fifteen months with you. I can't. For so many reasons." Biting her lip, she nodded. He approached her, cupping her face in his hands. "I don't know how you put up with me, honey. But I'm very lucky that you do."_

_"It's easy," she replied softly. The words she'd wanted to say for so long tumbled out. "I love you."_

_His Adam's apple bobbed; it was much more visible now that he'd shaved off his beard. She was still adjusting to the change._

_"I think I'll take the blue tie instead," Grissom said suddenly. "Can you grab it for me?"_

_When his back was turned, Sara retrieved the grey tie from her drawer and placed it in his suitcase._

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Laura reached into her granddaughter's stroller and zipped up her little jacket. The LVPD crime lab was cold place, and Cassie was just getting over a few days of the sniffles.

"Mama?" Cassie asked.

"Yes, we're going to see mama," Laura told her. Straightening back up, she addressed the curly-haired receptionist who had just gotten off the phone. "Can you tell me where I can find Sara Sidle?"

The girl leaned over the counter. "Oh my goodness…is that Cassie? She's so big! Hello sweetheart!" Cassie accepted the attention with a grin that displayed her baby teeth. Laura smiled proudly. Still looking down into the stroller, the girl said, "I can page her, ma'am."

"Oh, that's not necessary. We can go to her."

The receptionist, whose name tag read 'Judy,' looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, but we can't allow visitors to walk around unaccompanied. If you'll have a seat, she'll be out in just a few minutes."

Laura didn't have much choice. Judy was already on the com system. "CSI Sidle, you have a visitor at the front desk."

True to the receptionist's word, it wasn't long before Sara appeared around the corner. She had a blue lab coat over the clothes she'd worn into work almost eighteen hours earlier. Her hair was pulled back in a messy knot, and she had a pencil stuck behind her ear. Although there were dark circles under her eyes, she smiled upon seeing her daughter.

Before she acknowledged her mother, Sara reached into the stroller and lifted Cassie into her arms. She said nothing for several long seconds. She just held onto her child.

"Mama," Cassie protested, wriggling in Sara's arms. "Go."

"Thanks for bringing her." Her daughter's voice was throaty with exhaustion.

"You sounded awful on the phone, Sara." Laura wanted to reach out, but she kept both hands on the stroller's handles. "Is something wrong?"

"Tough case," Sara whispered into Cassie's curls. After another second, she relaxed her grip on the little girl. But she wasn't quite ready to put her down yet. "I can't really talk about it."

Frankly, that was alright with Laura. She knew just enough about her daughter's profession to know that she never wanted details. "Well. I brought you some food. Can you spare a minute to eat?"

She looked like she wanted to refuse, but something must have changed her mind. "Yeah, I should."

In the break room, Sara dutifully downed her vegetable pita sandwich. Cassie sat on her lap, babbling into her toy cell phone, making more noise than actual words. Laura looked around, familiarizing herself with the place where Sara spent so much of her time.

"I don't know," she mused out loud. "I'd feel like I was being constantly watched with all these glass walls."

"Keeps us on task," Sara said.

Laura shivered. "Does the freezing cold keep you on task, too?"

"That's for the equipment. The machines run hot."

They lapsed back into a quiet lull, which was only broken by Cassie's imaginary conversation.

"Dada," she said into her phone. "Dada go."

Sara set down her sandwich with careful precision. Out of nowhere, she changed the subject. "I'm going to put her back into day care next week."

Although she knew the time she would no longer be needed was coming, it still hurt to have it suddenly arrive. Laura blinked before nodding. "Of course. She needs to get back with the other children."

"I've asked to stay on graveyard. They're shorthanded now and…well, it's easier to sleep alone during the day."

Laura was confused. "If you're going to be working at night, who's going to be at the house with Cassie?"

"I was hoping…you." She rested her cheek on her little girl's head. "If you have to go, I'll understand, and I'll work something out. But…"

"Sweetie." This time, she wasn't able to keep from reaching out. But at the last second, she touched her granddaughter's cheek instead of her daughter's arm. "I'm not going anywhere."

A sad smile graced Sara's lips. She hugged her arms around her baby. "People always say that."

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Even though I was impatient, and posted before she got a chance to look at it, I still have to thank my beta, PhDelicious, for her general awesomeness. The same goes for everyone reading this:) Thank you!

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

April 1989

_"How is your brother?"_

_For a moment, it seemed like the only response she would get to her question was a shrug. But after a moment, her daughter added, "Last I heard, he was in Las Vegas."_

_"Awful city. I hope he's staying out of trouble."_

_"I doubt he could even if he wanted to." There was a long pause. "I didn't come here to chat."_

_Four years in prison had forced Laura to construct walls around her heart. But ever since she'd arrived for her first visit in two years, her daughter's cold, impersonal tone had been chipping away at her defenses._

_Gone was the fifteen year old who'd spent the entire visit talking about her science project and the boy in her class who had big ears, but was oh-so cute. She'd still been "mom" to that girl._

_The seventeen year-old sitting in front of her made it clear through every word, every motion, that she not only didn't need a mother, she didn't want one._

_Sara sat on the other side of the stone table, framed by a backdrop of barbed wire fences. The courtyard of the women's prison was no place for her daughter. Laura knew this. But she'd selfishly requested this visit through Lucinda, Sara's DCFS caseworker, desperate to reconnect with her child._

_"Why did you come?" Laura asked, her voice hoarse._

_Sara looked off to the side for a long moment, allowing her mother the chance to study her. She was lovely, even though she tried to hide it through the absence of any makeup or jewelry. Her hair was stubbornly wavy, but instead of taking advantage of this natural curl, she left it limp around her shoulders. No hairspray, no mousse. Laura's hands fairly itched to do something with her daughter's locks. Like she had when she was little._

_When Sara looked back, her lips were set in a stubborn line that made her look at least a decade older. "I came to say goodbye."_

_Laura's heart skipped a beat. "What?"_

_"I got into Harvard. Early admission." Sara paused. "I'm leaving in two weeks."_

_"But…" Her head spun. "Harvard is three thousand miles away!"_

_"Exactly," her daughter replied sharply. "Trust me, if Oxford had given me a full scholarship, I'd be heading there instead."_

_Laura tried to wet her lips, but her mouth was dry. "You're seventeen."_

_"I'll be eighteen in a few months." Sara shook her head. "I'm not asking for your opinion. It's a done deal. I just wanted to tell you in person." A tiny crack appeared in her stony façade. "Aren't you even going to congratulate me?"_

_"You're running away," Laura accused her._

_Sara blinked. "Yeah. Maybe. Can you blame me?"_

_She swallowed, her throat sticking. "Sara…sweetie…you know I'm up for parole in a year. My lawyer says there's no way I won't get it. I'll be out here!"_

_"So what?"_

_"So…so we'll be a family again! We'll find your brother wherever he is and…" She stopped when she saw Sara shaking her head again. "You don't believe me?"_

_"I believe that you think it's that easy. But it's not. Besides…when were we a family? When Dad was slamming you into walls? When Adam was getting high? When I was walking four miles home from school because no one remembered to pick me up?"_

_"Things have changed, Sara."_

_Her reply was swift and bitter. "So, killing Dad was just a big band-aid?"_

_Laura pressed a hand against her aching chest. "Sweetie, please…don't do this to me."_

_"All I'm doing is trying to have some kind of a normal life. If you really care about me, you'll be happy for me." Sara hesitated. "I'm going with or without your approval. I just thought…you might like to say goodbye."_

_By this time, sobs were welling up faster than Laura could think to stop them. "I can't say that, Sara. Not to my little girl…" Her words dissolved into tears._

_Sara tugged the sleeves of her jeans jacket down over her hands and tucked them under her armpits, either for warmth or protection. "I'm not going to feel bad about this. I'm just not." She stood up. "Lucinda will know how to contact me in Massachusetts in case of emergency. Other than that, can you just…leave me alone?"_

_Laura looked up and met her daughter's blank, brown stare. "What happened to you…to make you like this?"_

_"Nothing that you didn't make happen." Sara backed up a few steps. "Good luck with the parole board." If she wanted to say anything else, she held it back. "Bye."_

_And then, she was gone._

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

A day that starts with a phone call from your child's daycare, informing you that your child has been biting other children, is already destined to be a bad day. Sara figured that only managing to catch two hours of sleep before that phone call arrived was just another nail in the coffin of the day that had just begun.

"Cassie is a bright, engaging child," the daycare teacher told Sara when she arrived to pick her daughter up. "But she's been getting more aggressive with the other children. We're aware that she's lost her father, and that can certainly account for some behavioral changes, even in the little ones. But we simply can't let this go on."

"Are you saying she won't be welcome back tomorrow?"

"I'm saying…perhaps you should think about getting her some help. There are several excellent child psychologists in the area. I can get you their numbers."

Sara stared at the petite woman. "You're seriously suggesting that I send my fifteen month-old daughter to therapy?"

"Mrs. Stokes…"

"Sidle."

The woman blushed. "I'm sorry. Ms. Sidle. I think we all have Cassie's best interest at heart. But I also have to think about the other children, as well. Especially the ones who have been bitten."

Maybe it was the fact that she was bone-tired, but Sara lifted her chin, defensively. "I'd like to see some evidence that connects my daughter's teeth to these alleged bite marks."

She spent the next twenty minutes collecting her daughter's things. She added 'find new daycare' to her mental list of chores, and drove Cassie home.

What was waiting for her there was even more disconcerting.

As Sara entered from the garage, hauling her daughter on one hip, Laura looked up from the newspaper's daily sodoku puzzle.

"What's the matter?" she immediately asked. "Is she sick?"

"She's fine," Sara replied, setting down a bulging bag of extra clothes and diapers. "I've decided that her daycare facility no longer suits her needs, and I'll be looking for a new establishment. One that will display patience and understanding with a child who's just lost a parent. And one that won't suggest she be analyzed before her second birthday!"

Picking up her coffee cup, Laura followed her into the living room. She waited as Sara set Cassie up in her playpen with a few toys, put a Baby Einstein DVD on, and fell back into the couch in utter exhaustion.

"Something came for you," she finally said.

"What is it?" She didn't even bother to open her eyes.

"I think you should see for yourself."

With a sigh, Sara pulled herself to her feet. She followed her mother's pointed finger until her gaze landed on the dining room table.

Was it déjà vu if you really did experience something twice? It was the same plant, the same green stalks, the same hint of purple color. Would the card read the same, or had he come up with more things to say in the seven years since he sent the last one?

"Who's it from?" Laura asked softly. Like she already knew the answer, but needed to be sure.

Sara lifted the card and opened it with a hesitant hand.

_Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time. – Albert Camus_

"Sara?" her mother asked after a few minutes slipped by. "Everything all right?"

She slipped the card into her pocket and turned to face her mother. "Can you watch Cassie? I need to…" She pointed at the staircase. When Laura nodded, Sara headed upstairs.

Torn between confusion, anger, hope and sorrow, Sara retreated into the room she'd shared with Nick. She sat on the edge of the bed, and nibbled on her thumbnail for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, when she couldn't take her own thoughts any longer, she reached for the phone and dialed information.

"What city and state?"

"Knoxville, Tennessee."

"What listing?"

"The University of Tennessee, Anthropology department."

"One moment, please."

Sara tapped her heel against the floor rapidly until she was connected. "Thanks for calling the UT Knoxville Anthropology department. I'm Donna-Sue. How can I help you?"

"Is…um…what are Gil Grissom's office hours?"

"I think they're right now. He just passed through a minute ago. Would you like me to connect you?"

Sara nodded. "Yes. Please."

Another second passed. The phone rang twice before it was answered. "Dr. Grissom's office, Reese speaking."

Frozen to the spot, all Sara could do was keep breathing.

"Hello?" the familiar voice went on. "Is anyone there?"

She found her own voice eventually. "Yes. Is Dr. Grissom available?"

"Hold on one second." The girl on the other end lowered the phone, but didn't cover the mouthpiece well enough. Sara could plainly hear her. "Gil, phone for you."

The phone transferred hands. "Grissom."

She was surprised that the words came as easily as they did. "Hasn't she graduated yet?"

"Sara." He cleared his throat. "Hi. Hello. This is…unexpected."

She shook her head at him, even though he couldn't see it. "Really? You thought you could send that plant with that note and not get a call?"

He said nothing for a minute. "I was thinking about you. And the next thing I knew, I was ordering it."

"You don't mean to…but you really make things hard."

"I know, honey." A fist squeezed her heart at hearing that one word. Clueless to her pain, Grissom went on. "It's finals week. After this, I have some vacation time." He paused. "If I came to town, would you…"

Sara waited for him to finish the sentence. But he left it right there, unwilling or unable to decide the barriers between them. What was allowed, what was forbidden…he was leaving it up to her.

"Give me call when you land," she finally said. "We'll go from there." Before she hung up, Sara added, "Oh, and tell Reese I said hello. It's been awhile since we spoke."

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, PhDelicious, and the police chopper that circled our neighborhood last night and kept me up long enough to finish this. And thank you for staying with this story through the ups and downs;)

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

August 2006

_"You were so wrong. I missed you on day one."_

_Chuckling, he kissed her forehead. "This is the best part about going away. Reunion sex."_

_She'd tackled him the minute he stepped foot in the house. In fact, his bag was still sitting in the foyer. And although he'd been back for an hour, these were the first words they'd spoken_

_Sara nestled her cheek against Grissom's collarbone, like a supremely content feline settling in for a nap. "Did you miss me?"_

_"Of course." He shifted his body slightly. "I also miss having feeling in my legs."_

_"You always say that," she laughed. "And it always comes back eventually."_

_Grissom smiled. "Well, I'm always freshly amazed at what you do to me."_

_Time slipped by as they lounged in each other's arms, trading occasional kisses. Eventually, Sara didn't let the kisses stop. They were racing towards another hour of non-verbal communication when his cell phone rang._

_"Uh-uh," she protested when he made a move to get up to answer it. She swung one leg over his hips, straddling him. "Whoever it is…" She kissed him. "…they can wait."_

_"Honey…c'mon." He gently grasped her waist and urged her off. "It'll just be a second."_

_Sara sighed, but she laid back against the pillows as he retrieved his pants from the floor and pulled out his phone. "Grissom." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Hello." A moment passed. "No…well, yes, but it's all right."_

_Crawling on her knees across the bed, Sara snuck up behind him and attacked his neck with her lips, almost knocking the phone out of his grasp._

_Frowning, Grissom switched it to his other ear, holding it in place with his shoulder as he pulled on his pants. "Black is certainly a good jumping-off point," he said in response to whatever the person on the other end had just told him. "But if you want to know more, I'd recommend reading Fuentes' paper."_

_Sara nipped at his now-free ear before whispering into it, detailing exactly what she would do for him if he hung up._

_Although he hesitated for a second, Grissom's only response was to gently extract himself from her arms and stand. "Ah, but be careful not to confuse longevity with experience, Reese. Black may be older than the hills, but Fuentes has actually explored them." He wandered out of the room, chuckling at the response his joke got._

_A bucket of ice water had been dumped over her, leaving her naked and cold in the middle of the bed. She reached for the edge of the bed sheet, and drew it up to her chest._

_He came back into the bedroom ten minutes later. Sara rolled away from him when he tried to pick up where they'd left off._

_That must have finally struck a chord. "I'm sorry, honey."_

_She stared at the wall. She wanted to ask him why…had he done something he needed to be sorry for? But she couldn't make her mouth form the words. And she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to hear his answer, anyway._

_Her silence prompted him to kiss her shoulder apologetically until she gave in and let him pull her back into his arms._

_"You know I can't resist the opportunity to introduce Fuentes to an expanding mind," Grissom said, resting his chin on the top of her head._

_"Yeah." Sara shut her eyes tight, blocking out the memories, as well as the doubt that had begun to plague her. "I remember."_

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Laura was playing a mostly-one sided game of patty-cake with Cassie when Sara came downstairs to start her day. She'd gotten almost six hours of sleep, which Laura had learned to accept as being a good day's rest for her daughter.

Instead of heading straight for the coffee pot, Sara joined them on the carpet. Cassie held out her arms, and she gladly lifted the little girl into her lap.

"Ball," Cassie said to her mother. "Ball!"

"What, baby?" Sara asked.

Laura held up a blue plastic ball. "Ball!" Cassie repeated, clapping her tiny hands together.

"She's been saying it all morning," Laura informed her.

"Nick bought her that," Sara said softly. "He said…she could be as girly as nature intended her to be, but any child of his was going to learn to throw a curveball."

Giving Cassie the ball, Laura smiled. "I wish I could have seen him with her. I bet…he was a great dad."

Sara nodded absentmindedly, like she was thinking about something else. "In the cabinet to the left of the TV…there's some DVD's." She gazed at Cassie as the little girl gnawed at one side of her toy. "I've been avoiding them for…seven weeks. Maybe I shouldn't anymore."

Laura hesitated a second before getting up. She selected a DVD from the cabinet at random and set it up to play.

"LVPD picnic at Lake Mead," Sara said when it started. She drew in a shaky breath. "God, it wasn't even a year ago, but it feels like a hundred have passed."

On the television screen, the camera panned around the lake shore until its operator found her target.

_"Smile pretty, Nicky!" Sara boomed, her voice magnified by proximity to the microphone._

_He was wearing a black ball cap and sunglasses, and the only thing that kept him from looking like every other cop that was milling around behind him was the baby in his arms. Cassie was sound asleep against his shoulder, her pink sunbonnet slightly askew, revealing wispy strands of the dark brown hair that would eventually grow into sweet curls._

_When he spoke, his voice was lost in the distance between them. "What's that?" Sara asked. She started to walk forward, the camera shaking with each step._

_Once she was close enough, Nick reached out and covered the lens with his hand. "You're a menace with that thing," he laughed._

Laura glanced over at her daughter. Her eyes were fixed on Nick as he removed his hand and came back into focus.

_"Tables have been reversed," Sara told him. "Filmee becomes the filmer."_

_He turned his head, displaying his strong profile. "Just make sure you catch my best side."_

_"Are you having fun, Ms. Streisand?" she asked._

_"Sure," he replied. "It's hot as Hades out here, but the food's good. Beer's good." He winked. "And if you'd ever take your T-shirt off, the view would be good, too."_

_"No one wants me to put the milk stations on display," she shot back. Nick shook his head, good-naturedly. "Do you need a break from baby duty?"_

_He looked down at the baby for a second. "Nah." He kissed her forehead and adjusted her bonnet. "She'll be wanting some lunch in a little while, though." His grin was positively Machiavellian. "So I will get my view."_

Sara looked away from the screen. "Please turn it off."

Laura grabbed the remote and paused the DVD. The living room was silent for awhile, save for Cassie repeating her new word.

"Are you okay?" Laura eventually asked.

Shaking her head, Sara looked down at her daughter. "No, I'm not."

Immediately, motherly concern kicked in. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I was just…stressed. Or coming down with something. I tried taking better care of myself. But it didn't go away."

"Sara?" There weren't many pieces, but she quickly put them together. "Are you sure?"

Sara nodded. "Must have happened just before he…" She lifted her head and looked at her mother. "His parting gift."

"Oh, sweetie." Laura covered her mouth with her hand until she felt like she could speak again. "This is wonderful."

Sara's chin wobbled and twin tears spilled down her face. "Yeah?"

Laura nodded firmly, even through her own tears. "Yeah. It is."

Her daughter looked back at the frozen image of Nick's smile. "He'd be over the moon about it."

"So…why aren't you?"

"I don't know that I'm not." She swiped at her wet cheeks. "Just so you're aware, I'm handling this way better than I did the last time I got a plus sign on that stupid stick."

Laura held her tongue. It wasn't her place to point out that this could possibly be true because there wouldn't be any doubt about who had fathered this child.

But as she studied her daughter's face, she had to wonder if Sara minded having those doubts. Maybe doubt kept hope alive.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Muchos gracias to my beta, PhDelicious. And, in the immortal words of the Bartles and Jaymes guys, thanks for your support.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

June 1994

_"Hey, Laura. Your daughters's name is Sara, right?"_

_Her head snapped up. Unfortunately, so did her hand, which was currently holding an iron in place, attempting to turn Mrs. Johanssen's stick straight locks into curls._

_"Ow!" her client protested the sharp tug on her hair._

_"I'm sorry," Laura half-heartedly apologized. She unwound the limp curl and turned her attention to her co-worker, Anna, at the next station over. "Yeah, Sara. My daughter. Why?"_

_"Well…" Anna squirted some mousse into her hands. "My best friend Meredith is dating this guy, Jason, who just graduated from Berkeley. They've only been seeing each other for a month or so, but it's already way serious." She started combing the mousse through her client's hair with her fingers. "They had the usual 'who's the last person you dated' conversation the other night, and his answer was a girl named Sara Sidle that he knew from school."_

_"My Sara goes to Harvard."_

_"Yeah, I remember you saying that. But it's not like Sara Sidle is a really common name. Not like Jennifer Smith or something. Plus Meredith said that Jason told her his ex-girlfriend had just moved back to the west coast. So it got me thinking, you know?"_

_Laura separated another lock of Mrs. Johanssen's hair, but her mind wasn't on her work. "Did he say anything else about her?"_

_"Meredith likes having all the details," Anna said with scoff. "Personally, I want to know as little as possible about my boyfriend's exes. But she says she likes to know what she's gonna be compared to. According to her, this Sara is tall…Meredith likes that 'cause she short. He wouldn't say if she was pretty, which means she is. And she's way smart…like, she graduated with honors smart."_

_"She's graduated then?" Laura asked anxiously._

_"Uh-huh. Um…some science, I think. I don't know. They broke up because she wanted to go to grad school. And he was totally interested in settling down. Good thing for Meredith that she was next to come along, right?" Anna chattered on. "I swear! Why can't my luck be that good? A smart guy who's ready to commit? And who's not gay? How often does that come along?"_

_Laura had stopped listening. She swallowed heavily, and addressed her client. "I'll be right back."_

_The back of the salon smelled like hair dye and acetone, but she breathed deeply until her pulse stopped racing._

_Although she hadn't spoken to her daughter in five years, she'd kept up with her through Lucinda for two of those years. The last time Sara had contacted her former case worker, before she moved out of the dorm to an undisclosed apartment, it was to tell her that she was doing fine. Nothing more than that, but Laura had latched onto the tidbit of information like she did anything regarding her kids._

_While Sara had been doing fine at Harvard, Adam had overdosed on heroin in a motel room in Phoenix. She'd had no way of contacting Sara to let her know._

_But now she was back in California. Yet…Sara hadn't made any move to find her. There were things she wanted to say to her daughter, wanted to tell her…needed her to understand._

_The parole board had deemed her worthy of a second chance. Could her daughter do the same?_

_Back in the salon, Anna was still going on about the odds of catching an eligible man so close to San Francisco. Laura took another deep breath and returned to Mrs. Johanssen's side._

_She picked her curling iron up and asked, in as nonchalant a tone as she could manage, "Could you ask Meredith if Jason happens to have Sara's address or phone number?"_

_The look Anna gave her was one of affectionate pity, something she could barely stand receiving from a 22 year-old girl. "Sure thing."_

_A week later, she had Sara's phone number at Berkeley. But every time she tried to dial it, she froze up. Sara's voice would reply in her head._

_Leave me alone…_

_She never made the call._

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Sara knew who it was before she even answered. She blamed it on some sort of sixth sense that she only possessed where he was concerned.

"You're here," she said, unnecessarily.

"I'm here," he repeated. "Hailing a cab as we speak."

She put a hand over her suddenly-queasy stomach. "What hotel are you staying at?"

"Chez Willows." He explained, "Catherine offered me her guest bedroom, and I accepted."

Surprised by her own smile, Sara nodded. "Okay. Well, I'm sure she has something planned for you…late lunch…early dinner."

"I'm sure she doesn't. I just spoke to her, and she's still in court." There was a long pause. "I want to see you, Sara."

She was powerless. She always had been.

An hour later she was sitting in their usual booth in their usual diner, desperate for a cup of coffee to calm her nerves. Her hands shook; she grabbed a packet of sugar and rolled it between her fingers.

"Sara."

She dropped the sugar and looked up. Oh, that face…that damn face.

Grissom slid into the booth. He was wearing a royal blue shirt…did he remember that she'd bought it for him once upon a time?

"You grew the beard back." Of all the things she could have said to him after two years, and that's what she chose. She could have kicked herself.

He ran his hand down his chin. "You always liked it."

"It makes you look distinguished." Sara shook her head. "I never understood why you shaved it." That was a lie. She had her suspicions.

"Tennessee gets very cold," Grissom said, nodding when the waitress appeared with a coffee pot. She filled his cup and moved off. "The beard provides insulation."

"Handy." They were quiet for awhile as Grissom sipped his coffee. Sara struggled to keep her gaze focused on the table between them. She didn't want to study him, and she didn't want to know if he was studying her. "How long are you going to be here?"

"Awhile. Sara…I didn't tell you this on the phone." He paused. "I'm so sorry about Nick."

Her heart and her stomach twisted in unison. "Thanks."

"He called me a few months ago."

"What?" They locked stares. "Why?"

Grissom shook his head. "I don't know. I never actually spoke to him. He left a message with…"

"Reese," she supplied.

"He wanted me to call him back. I didn't." He looked away. For a moment, she thought she saw moisture in his eyes. "I will regret that forever."

"He had his own regrets," Sara whispered.

"And knowing Nick, he was probably calling to ask for forgiveness." Grissom looked back. His eyes were dry. "He didn't do anything wrong."

She nodded. "In the shoot-out of our relationship, he was the innocent bystander."

Another long pause plagued them. "I try not to think about that time too much," he finally said.

"I think about it every day."

The waitress reappeared just then. "Can I get either of you something more than coffee?"

Grissom shook his head, but Sara requested a plate of French fries.

"Fries?" he asked a moment later.

"If we're going to start talking seriously, I need a full stomach."

He smiled sadly. "We don't need to rehash all of it if you don't want to."

"I've never been very good at dealing with my past." Sara rubbed the back of her neck. "Then my mother moved in."

"How's that going?"

She thought before replying. "Better than I expected. So maybe if I can face those demons…I might be able to face these."

Grissom cleared his throat. "I've been called many things, that's a first for 'demon'."

"Maybe that wasn't the right choice of words." Sara closed her eyes tightly to keep tears from escaping. "I'm sorry."

"Honey..." He said like he had the first time she'd heard it…soft, low, and without thinking about what it might do to her.

Later, she would blame her response on hormones. "I've forgotten how to talk to you! It's like…you're a stranger sitting across from me!" When she opened her eyes, the tears ran free down her cheeks. "I hate it! And I hate that I'm mostly to blame for it!" She made angry swipes at her face with the back of her hand. "I've known since I was thirteen that one night…one act…could ruin lives. I just never thought I'd be responsible for…"

His hand covered hers. "You weren't. Not entirely."

Slowly, Sara turned her hand over until their palms touched. "I have no right to ask this." Grissom waited for her to go on. "I have to think about…the past every time I see my daughter." She looked him straight in the eye. "How can you not think about it every time you see…"

He waited again, but she never finished the thought. The waitress arrived with her fries, plopping the plate down without much care. It was like a wall coming down between them.

Grissom drew his hand back. "Better eat them before they get cold."

Sara bit into a fry, but it tasted like cardboard. Her hand was still warm.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta;) And big hugs to everyone reading this.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

October 2006

_"So, are you ever gonna tell me who you've been seeing?"_

_Sara swallowed too fast. The bubbles from the beer invaded the back of her throat, sending her into a minute long coughing spree. Nick laughed and gently slapped her back a few times until she could speak. "What makes you think I'm seeing someone?" she wheezed._

_"Just a feeling I get." He took a sip of his own beer, his third if they were keeping tabs. "We haven't gotten together on our nights off in a long time. I figured you've been otherwise indisposed. So…who is he?"_

_Still clearing her throat, she took a moment to consider her answer. In the end, she settled on the time-honored tradition of avoiding the question. "Don't tell me you've missed me, Nicky," Sara said, giving his arm a playful push._

_Instead of laughing or returning the gesture, Nick was suddenly quiet. "Really. What's his name?" When she looked away, he pressed on. "You are seeing someone, right?"_

_Because she was on her third beer as well, she lifted her shoulders as she tucked her feet up under her on the couch. "Not officially."_

_"How does that work?"_

_Sara picked at the label on her bottle. "Just like it sounds."_

_"Okay." Nick sipped and thought. "So, who are you unofficially seeing?"_

_She shook her head, smiling. "What's with the third degree about my love life?"_

_"I don't know. It's just…" He paused. "You were really happy for awhile. And lately…you've been sad again. I kinda want to know the name of the guy who's messing with my friend's heart."_

_The living room of her apartment was suddenly very quiet. So much so that she was afraid Nick might be able to hear how fast that heart of hers was beating. Say what you wanted to about him, but he had some damn good instincts._

_She was unhappy. Grissom was in New Orleans again. He was supposed to have called her two hours earlier. Her phone had yet to ring. In fact, one of the main reasons she'd invited Nick over for a few beers was to distract her, and keep her from calling him like some nagging housewife. She had her pride, after all._

_"No one's messing with my heart," she said softly._

_"Good." His arm had been lying across the back of the sofa. Now he lifted it, and smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Because I really want to kiss you right now, Sara."_

_She must have gone into shock. It was the only explanation as to why, when he leaned over and touched his lips to hers, she didn't stop him. When he covered her body with his, she didn't stop him. When the kiss grew deeper, and she could taste the beer on his tongue, she didn't stop him._

_But when his fingers slipped underneath the hem of her shirt, Sara turned away from the kiss with a gasp for air. "Nick! I can't!"_

_He pulled back fast. "Oh god, Sara! I'm sorry. I thought…"_

_She shook her head rapidly, struggling to get out from underneath him. "I have to…go. I need to…" She stood up on shaky legs. "I'll be back."_

_Sara retreated to her bedroom, shutting the door before slumping back against it. Feeling like Hester Prynne, Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, she put a hand to her mouth._

_It had been so different. Where Grissom was comfortable flesh, Nick was hard muscle and sinew. Grissom let her initiate, let her take control. Nick had kissed her like a starving man. God forgive her…she hadn't hated it._

_This was not irreparable damage, she told herself. It was a careless moment between old friends who'd had too much to drink, and were both probably a little lonely. Grissom didn't ever need to know._

_Still, she found herself dialing his cell phone a moment later. He didn't need to know, but she needed to hear his voice._

_It rang twice. Sara was about to hang up, unwilling to leave a voice message in her currently unstable condition. But then, someone answered._

_"Dr. Grissom's phone."_

_The voice was young. Feminine. With a distinct southern accent. Sara glanced at the clock. It was after eleven p.m. in Las Vegas, making it past one in New Orleans. And…he wasn't alone._

_"Where is he?" Sara blurted out, her mind already racing to places she didn't really want to go._

_"I'm sorry. He's sort of asleep right now."_

_Her stomach lurched. "Who is this?" she whispered._

_"I'm Reese. I'm one of his students. Who is this?" She paused, like she was checking the phone. "Sara? Are you the Sara he works with? 'Cause if this is about a case or something, I can totally wake him up."_

_"It's not about anything," she heard herself reply. Bile rose in the back of her throat. "Apparently."_

_"Okay. Well, if you want, I'll give him a message when he…"_

_Sara hung up the phone. She stared at it for what seemed like a lifetime._

_She'd speculated for weeks. Considered the possibilities. Worried that she was jumping to conclusions. And ultimately decided that she trusted him. She'd even berated herself for her doubts. She loved him. He was enough for her. Surely…she was enough for him. Right?_

_"What fools these mortals be," she murmured as the first and only tear slid down her cheek._

_How dare he make her so happy…only to turn around and strip every bit of it away? And for what? A younger woman._

_Well…he was nothing if not consistent._

_There was a knock on her bedroom door. "Sara?" When she didn't reply, the doorknob twisted. Nick pushed it open a crack. "Are you okay?" He sighed. "I am so sorry. I swear I don't know what came over me. Okay…that's a lie. I know what came over me." He opened the door a bit further. "Can we talk about this?"_

_She stood up and walked to the door, yanking it open all the way. There was worry written across Nick's face. But there was no trace of regret._

_"Why did you kiss me?" she demanded._

_"Because…I had three beers on an empty stomach?"_

_Her brow wrinkled. "Is that all?"_

_Nick shook his head. "No. Sara…" He smiled tenderly. "You're one in a million. Any guy who wouldn't kiss you when he's stone sober is an idiot."_

_A smile touched her lips. She couldn't believe it…but she was smiling. "Really?"_

_"Really. And I have to tell you, lately it's been all I can do to pretend that you're just a friend, like Warrick or…"_

_He was cut off by Sara grabbing his shirt and pulling him into the bedroom. Their mouths met and melded._

_When she felt the bed against the back of her knees, she briefly wondered if Grissom had thought about her when he was with Reese. But a moment later, his face vanished. He'd made his choice._

_Now she was making hers._

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Laura tried not to show her surprise when Sara invited Grissom over for dinner. But she couldn't help asking one or two questions as she peeled potatoes.

"Is Cassie invited to all of this, or should I get her ready for bed early?"

Sara was slicing vegetables into neat strips for a casserole. "I'm waiting to see how long she naps."

"Has he ever met her?"

Her daughter paused with her knife halfway through a zucchini. "He left town before she was born."

Laura nodded, reaching for the next potato. "And he has no idea she could be his?"

"I really don't want to get into this," Sara said with a trace of exasperation. After a moment had passed, she sighed. "Sorry. I'm…edgy."

"Just one more question then. Why on earth did you invite him over?" Her daughter said nothing, but the speed with which she cut the vegetables tripled. "Sara, if you still have feelings for him…"

"I don't know what I have or don't have," she burst out. "He makes everything complicated. With Nick, I always knew where I stood and where he stood." She hacked into a carrot. "I waited my whole life for something that stable."

"When you found it…" Laura pretended to be very interested in her peeler. "…were you happy?"

Sara never got to answer. Her knife slipped and she sliced open the tip of her finger.

She ended up greeting Grissom at the door two hours later with a large bandage swaddling the injured digit.

"What happened?" he asked with a worried frown.

"Just a reminder of why I don't cook." Sara took the bottle of wine he held out. "Thanks. Um…come in."

When the doorbell had rung signaling their guest's arrival, Laura had stationed herself in the living room. Cassie was on the rug, happily stacking wooden blocks and babbling a little song to herself. Laura heard the exchange at the front door, and with bated breath, waited for the scene to unfold.

Sara led Grissom into the living room. "I'd introduce the two of you," she said dryly. "But I understand you've already met."

Grissom held out his hand to Laura. "Nice to see you again."

She took it like she imagined Jackie Collins would. Smoothly, but coolly. "You, too."

While this was happening, Sara put the wine on the coffee table, bent down and picked up Cassie. "This one, however, you haven't met."

He looked at the little girl, who had transitioned from playing with her blocks, to playing with her mother's necklace. "No. I haven't." His smile seemed tight and forced. "She's beautiful, Sara."

She nodded. "Yeah." In the kitchen, a timer went off. "That's dinner." Sara handed Cassie to Laura. "I'll be right back."

Left alone with Gil Grissom, Laura cleared her throat. "Well. Thank you for the wine." He nodded, but she noticed that his eyes never wavered from her granddaughter. "It's amazing how much she looks like Sara, isn't it?"

"It is," he agreed.

"Those big, brown eyes. I tell you…they got me thirty-seven years ago, and they've got me again."

He sat down on the loveseat. "I see a lot of Nick, too."

"I keep hoping to meet the person in Nick's family who gave her those fabulous curls. I mean, I know they didn't come from our side. Sara's blessed with waves on a good day, but nothing like that." She gestured at her granddaughter. "She's going to break hearts someday with that mane. That and the dimple in her chin."

What she didn't add, and probably should have, was that Sara's father had one just like it.

Sara came back into the living room. "Dinner's ready. Can you bring her in?" she asked Laura.

"Sure." Laura swung her granddaughter onto her hip. "Come on, sweetheart."

She paused at the entrance to the dining room and glanced back at them. Grissom was still seated, apparently frozen to the spot. When Sara called his name, he looked up at her, stunned, confused…and maybe a little awed.

It was then Laura noticed that even though he kept it short, Gil Grissom's hair was decidedly curly. If she hadn't been holding Cassie, who had recently started repeating words, she would have cursed out loud.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued

A/N: Obviously, this story has now become an AU, with the advent of the new season. I hope you'll stick around, regardless!


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: PhDelicious rocks (as usual). And I am so grateful that you stopped by to read my story (as usual).

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

April 2007

_"You were on the bride's side, right?"_

_Laura looked up from her empty champagne glass. The man asking her the question had led her to her seat at the church. Greg Sanders, groomsman. She remembered from the program._

_"Greggo." Before Laura could answer, the groom himself approached them, throwing one arm up around Greg's shoulders. "I'd like you to meet Sara's mother, Laura Sidle."_

_"Wow! No wonder you look so familiar. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."_

_Laura had never really liked being called "ma'am," but Greg Sanders was far too endearing to be irritating. "You, too."_

_Nick patted his friend's shoulder before releasing him. "Can you give us a second, man?"_

_"Sure." Greg started walking away. "Mrs. Sidle, save a dance for me later, okay?"_

_She smiled and nodded. It didn't matter how old you got, being asked to dance by a handsome man could be the highlight of your night. "He's sweet," she said._

_"He's a goofball and we love him." Nick grinned. "Of course, I love just about everything today. But nothing quite as much as…" His eyes settled on a spot across the perfectly manicured lawn._

_Laura followed his gaze and found her daughter._

_The bride was surrounded by women, all of whom were taking turns laying their hands against the mound of her stomach. She was an island of quiet misery in a sea of over-eager well-wishers._

_"My sisters," Nick sighed. "They're supposed to be keeping her off her feet as much as possible, not putting her on display."_

_She couldn't stop watching Sara. Throughout the ceremony, she'd stared at her. The pretty, but awkward teenager had blossomed into a beautiful, successful woman. And she'd missed it. She would be missing this, too, if not for the man standing next to her._

_"How far along is she?"_

_Nick tore his eyes away from his new wife long enough to look at her. "Seven months." He paused. "She wants to talk to you. She just…doesn't know how."_

_"It's enough to be here," Laura said. "I don't want to upset her."_

_He laughed. "Laura, one thing about your daughter that I bet hasn't changed in all these years…she's no delicate flower. Even pregnant." Nick nodded in Sara's direction. "Go rescue her. Trust me, she'll be grateful."_

_As she wove her way through the other guests, Laura tried to come up with things she could say to Sara. Sure, she could congratulate her on her wedding and her baby and the wonderful life she'd managed to find, but it all seemed too corny. It would be their first exchange in eighteen years. It needed to have some kind of meaning._

_By the time she reached Sara, her daughter had been allowed to take a seat. Laura took a final second to study her. She had decided against white, and gone with a beautiful shade of shadowed mauve. Her hair was up in curls with tendrils framing her face. And although she looked radiant, there was something else in her eyes. Something she didn't want anyone else to see._

_She was looking down at her new wedding ring when Laura quietly pulled up a chair next to her. Sara glanced up. She was startled, but she did her best to hide that, too._

_For a long minute, neither of them could find anything to say. Laura reached for something, anything to break the horrible silence. "I love your dress."_

_Sara looked down at her stomach. "It was the only one that fit."_

_"It's beautiful." Her hands were shaking, so she tucked them between her knees. "The ceremony…the reception…it's all beautiful."_

_"Nick's mother will be happy to hear that. She has a flair for planning." Sara started twisting her ring around her finger. "Nick told me he'd gotten in contact with you. But I didn't think you'd come."_

_Laura felt the tears coming. "You don't know how often I've dreamed about your wedding day. I stopped hoping I'd get to see it a long time ago. He gave me back that hope."_

_"Nick operates in a world of black and whites," Sara murmured. "To him…family is family and nothing can change that. He didn't grow up in our house." A breeze swept over them. "You know…"_

_She waited for Sara to go on, and when she didn't, Laura prompted, "What?"_

_"I've spent more than half of my life trying to figure out what happened that night. I mean…I know what happened. I was there. But now…" Sara's hand cupped her belly. "All I want to know is how you could have let things get that bad. Because I know now…whenever I feel her kick, I know that I would stop at nothing to protect her." Her eyes were red with accusation. "If someone, even someone I loved, ever laid a hand on me in front of her, I would be gone in a second. No excuses, no second chances."_

_Laura pressed her fingers to her lips for a second. "Then…you're a lot stronger than I was."_

_"Sara…Laura." Nick approached the table with a fair amount of trepidation. "I'm sorry to butt in, but I have to steal my wife for a minute."_

_Sara cleared her throat lightly. "What is it?"_

_Nick helped her to her feet, giving her a soft kiss in the process. His hand went to her lower back, protectively, as he murmured, "He's here, Sara."_

_She hadn't meant to overhear, but at the mention of this mystery guest, the things her daughter had been trying to hide behind a smile was instantly revealed. Pain. Sadness. Laura drew in a breath. Could Nick see it, too?_

_"I need to lie down for a minute." Glancing between her husband and her mother, but not really seeing either one of them, Sara whispered, "My feet are killing me."_

_She left, heading towards the hall and the bridal suite. Nick smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Laura. If you'll excuse me." _

_Laura grabbed a fresh champagne glass from the next waiter who walked by and downed it. She would dance with Greg Sanders, she decided, and call it a day._

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

After dinner, while Laura took Cassie upstairs for a bath before bedtime, Sara let the dishes wait and joined Grissom on the patio. He was sitting in the same lawn chair in which Nick used to fall asleep after mowing the lawn. Sara stood in the open sliding glass door, watching him for a few seconds.

His chin was titled up; he was gazing at the stars like all the answers lay there.

"I found Cygnus awhile back," she said, stepping out into the night air. "The Northern Cross. Nick liked it."

If Grissom heard her, he gave no indication of it. Sara walked over and sat down in the chair closest to his. "Can you see it tonight?"

"I see a lot of things clearly tonight." She could feel Grissom looking at her profile, but she refused to turn her head. "I suppose I should have wondered back then, but I was a little distracted by…"

"Reese?"

"Coming home to an empty house," he finished. "Finding that you'd…"

"Slept with Nick? I never lied to you."

"I thought we weren't going to rehash."

Sara leaned on the arm of the chair to see him better. "Do you think I ever wanted to be the kind of woman who doesn't know who the father of her child is?" She swallowed back a lump. "But honestly, Gris…you and I…we weren't doing very well before that weekend."

"I don't agree with that."

"Come on." Her eyes watered. "You really think we were all right? With you heading to New Orleans every other weekend, and working straight through the weekends that you were here? All we ever did was have sex. We stopped talking. I missed you." She lifted her shoulders. "And I wasn't happy."

He swore almost too softly for her to hear. "If you were so unhappy, why didn't you tell me?"

"I guess…I wanted you to see it. How could you not see it?" When he said nothing, she answered for him, "Because you weren't looking."

"I did the best I could, Sara."

She nodded as the tears slipped down her throat. "And that's why I went to Nick. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. But you couldn't promise me a weekend." Several minutes passed. "If you'd been totally happy yourself…there wouldn't have been a Reese."

"It wasn't like that," Grissom finally said. "She was my student."

"I was your student once upon a time."

"I didn't love her."

A shiver ran down her spin. "I don't know for sure that you loved me."

"Really?" Grissom's chuckle was laced with bitterness. "I guess you weren't looking either." Above them, a star streaked by, beautiful in death. "Is Cassie mine?"

Sara stood up on unsteady legs. "She's Nick's. He loved her without asking that question."

"Have you ever run her DNA?"

She whipped back around. "Why? Do you want to be a daddy? I'd imagine Reese has many child-bearing years left. Ask her to play house."

Grissom reached for her arm before she could stalk away. "I want to know, Sara."

"Then get a court order. Because that's what it's going to take for you to get a single cell from my daughter."

He stepped back. "When did you start hating me?"

Her anger passed as quickly as it had come, and suddenly, she wanted to cry again. "I don't." Sara crossed her arms over her belly. "But I don't know if I'm ready to have you back in my life again. Not right now. Not like this."

"All right." Grissom slipped his hands into his pockets. "Well. You know where to reach me." On his way out the sliding glass door, he stopped and looked back. "About Reese…"

"I don't want to know," Sara said, dully.

"It doesn't matter. You've already decided," he said, walking into the house. "Just remember, Sara, that's a question that you never asked."

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, PhDelicious. I really appreciate everyone who's reading this story, and I love that you have so many questions;) I hope all of them get answered to your satisfaction. Enjoy!

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

March 1998

_"Gil, can I talk to you for a second?"_

_"Excuse me," Grissom said to the coroner to whom he'd been speaking. Under different circumstances, he might have just kept talking to the coroner. But the person pulling him away was his sponsor for the lecture series, the head of the San Francisco CSI unit, Dr. Mark Dillinger. "What can I do for you, Mark?"_

_Mark looked around the luncheon reception as if to make sure no one was within earshot. "I hear you met my rookie." When Grissom said nothing, he clarified, "Sara Sidle?"_

_Grissom took a sip of his watered down Scotch. "Yes, she attended my seminar on Monday. And we spoke at the reception afterwards."_

_"I heard you did more than that." Mark paused. "I heard you took her on a date."_

_"It wasn't a date," Grissom said. "We had coffee."_

_"Did you sleep with her?"_

_A moment passed. "I'm not sure who should be more insulted by that question, Mark. Me or her."_

_He crossed his arms. "I'm serious."_

_"I know." His eyebrow twitched. "That's why I can't decide."_

_"Look, Sara is a member of my team. She's probably the most promising Level 1 I have. But Jesus, Gil…she's not even out of her twenties. What were you thinking?"_

_His heart rate was on the rise. "I was thinking that times hadn't changed so much that a cup of coffee between members of the opposite sex who work in the same field could be construed as something indecent."_

_"Wake up. The president is getting his dick sucked in the Oval Office by an intern. Anything is possible." Mark lowered his voice. "Personally, I can see why you'd be tempted. She's an attractive girl. But for the sake of her career, not to mention your own, I'm telling you…don't go there."_

_Pointing at the bar with his glass, Grissom said, "I'm going to go refresh my drink. And then I'm going to finish my conversation with your coroner. And we're going to forget we had this little talk."_

_"It's not going to go away because you want it to, Gil. People are already talking."_

_"People always talk, Mark. Why do you think I spend so much time with bugs?"_

_As he walked away, Grissom had ten different curses on the tip of his tongue. Mark might have approached the whole thing badly…but he was closer to the truth than Grissom liked._

_At the bar, while waiting for his drink, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded receipt. Two coffees at $1.09 each. And Sara Sidle's email address and mobile phone number._

_With his own phone, Grissom dialed it slowly, almost praying she wouldn't answer, and he wouldn't have to do what he was about to do._

_"Sidle."_

_"Sara. It's…it's Gil Grissom."_

_"That's so weird. I was just thinking about you." Why did he like that so much? "Are you stuck at the luncheon?"_

_He nodded, and then realized she couldn't see it. "Yes." He paused. "I'm calling because…my flight tomorrow was canceled. I had to rebook." Grissom hesitated again. "I could only get one out tonight."_

_"So, no dinner then." Her disappointment was palpable, but she did an admirable job of covering it. "It's okay. I understand. Maybe next time you're in town we'll make it work."_

_"Maybe."_

_They were both quiet for a moment. "I really enjoyed meeting you," Sara finally said. "And I hope we can keep in touch."_

_Grissom glanced across the room. Mark was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "I'd like that," he told her._

_He could almost feel her smile through the phone. "Okay. Well…have a safe flight."_

_"Goodbye, Sara."_

_Grissom closed up his phone and reattached it to his belt. The bartender handed him his drink, and he downed it in several long swallows._

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

She was late for work. Cassie hadn't gone down for the night; she was pushing up a new tooth and the pain kept her from doing much more than crying. Although 99 percent of her wanted to be at home, rocking her baby and trying to make her comfortable, there was that one tiny percent of Sara that was almost relieved to be at work. Where it was quiet.

After stowing her bag, Sara headed into the break room for a much needed cup of coffee, even if she could only have decaf. The smell would be enough to wake her up, she hoped.

As it turned out, she got an even bigger jolt in the form of Gil Grissom. He was reclining in a chair, working on the daily crossword puzzle. And suddenly, it was like the past two years had never happened.

"What are you doing here?"

He frowned at his newspaper. "Do you have any idea who Delta Burke played on _Designing Women_?"

Sara shook her head. "Are you taking a trip down memory lane, or are you here for a reason?"

"Seven letters. Ends in 'E'," Grissom mused.

"Please stop ignoring me. I hate when you do that."

Finally, he looked up at her. "I wanted to call to give you some warning. But it all happened so fast. I didn't have time."

"Warn me about what?"

Catherine sauntered into the room just then. "Oh, good," she sighed. "I missed the fireworks." She walked to the coffee pot, grabbed a mug and poured. "I realize it feels like it's too soon to replace Nick. But you know how swamped we are, Sara. I'm getting all kinds of pressure from Ecklie to lighten everyone's work load before a major mistake is made. I had to hire someone. And well…" She turned back around. "You can't say he won't be an asset to the team."

Sara blinked. Because it was the only thing she could do. "What?" she whispered.

"Thank you, Catherine." Grissom set his pencil on top of his puzzle and removed his glasses. "I actually hadn't gotten that far yet."

"Ah." She looked back and forth between them before settling an 'oops, my bad' look on him. As she walked past Sara on her way out the door, she paused to put a hand on her arm. "Assignments in ten minutes. I'll keep the guys busy until then."

Once she was gone, Sara started shaking her head. "What is this? Some kind of twisted time warp?"

"Sara, I didn't come to town with any idea that I'd be staying."

"So why are you?"

He leaned forward. "I'm needed here."

"And Tennessee is willing to give up their adjunct professor just like that?"

"My appointment was up for renewal going into summer term. I just won't renew it." Grissom looked up at her. "I enjoyed teaching. But I'd be lying if I said I found it as fulfilling as this." He indicated the whole lab with his hands. "I don't think I realized how much I missed it until I walked in the door tonight."

Sara's stomach felt queasy. "You're seriously going to come back and work under Catherine? You don't foresee a problem there?"

"I never had the constitution for administration. You know that." He stood up. "And you and I have never been on equal footing, Sara. Now…we will be. We're both just Level 3. Co-workers."

She searched his eyes, unsure of what she hoped to see there. Some sign that it might be a joke? All she saw was what she'd always seen. Bottomless blue. An ocean you could drown in without care.

"I'm pregnant." Grissom stared at her. "Three months," she went on, still staring into his eyes. "This one is Nick's without question. So if you're thinking that coming back means that we might be able to pick up where things ended two years ago…you're wrong. I loved my husband." Her voice wobbled. "I miss him. And you might be able to replace him here….but that's where it ends. Understand?"

He quietly slipped his hands into his pockets and closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds. "Yes. Congratulations."

"Thank you." Even though her tears had never fully materialized, she ran her hand under her eyes. "It's Suzanne, by the way." She pointed at the puzzle.

As he filled in the letters, Sara poured herself some coffee, and burned her tongue on her first sip.

Gil Grissom was back in her life. Whether she was ready for him or not.

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Once again, my thanks go to PhDelicious for being the kind of beta everyone wants and needs on their side. Even more thanks go to everyone who's reading this, for keeping me inspired.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

September 1984

_"That's the third time, Sara. You know what that means!"_

_Sara looked down at the traitorous Coke bottle, then up at the person to whom it was pointing. Ricky Beale. And from the way his bushy eyebrows were waggling, he was much happier about his fate than she was._

_She unfolded her long, still-somewhat gangly legs and stood up with a sigh. "Fine. But someone had better be keeping track of the time."_

_"Go get her, Ricky!" one of the boys shouted out. As Sara headed for the closet, she received several sympathetic looks from the other girls. Carly's party was supposed to be just girls. But sometime after Carly's parents had gone to bed, the boys had snuck in through the basement._

_She'd gone to the party thinking that the worst thing that could happen would be that she'd be forced to undergo a makeover. She'd ended up playing Spin-the-Bottle with the guys who used to make fun of her teeth and her flat chest. And now she was being condemned to Seven Minutes in so-called Heaven with one of them._

_But she had to do it. Last year she'd been the freak around school because she read during lunch and got straight A's in every subject. Eighth grade was going to be different. And if she had to stand in a closet with a boy for seven minutes to make school more bearable, it was probably worth it in the long run._

_Besides, anything was better than being at home._

_The laundry closet was cramped and smelled like detergent. Ricky closed the door, and the only light was from the gap at the threshold._

_His elbow bumped into her boob and she was having none of that. Sara crossed her arms over her chest protectively. They'd only just started to grow and she was super-aware of them._

_"Hey, Sara," he said. "Fun party."_

_"Oh, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "So…" What did you talk about with a boy who probably didn't even know the Pythagorean Theorem? "Did you finish the summer reading?"_

_Ricky cleared his throat. "You know we're supposed to be kissing, right?"_

_Sara sighed. Typical guy, only one thing on his mind. "I've already kissed you twice."_

_"You didn't even use your tongue."_

_Her jaw dropped. "I am not putting my tongue anywhere near yours!"_

_"That's the rules of the game, Sara." Ricky's hand found her arm and circled it. "Just…stand still. I can't see anything in here." She felt him shuffle closer to her. And then, he was all over her._

_Her back hit the washing machine as he pushed her up against it. His lips smashed against hers. His tongue was like a wet snake, sliding everywhere. He grabbed at her chest, squeezing the tender flesh he found. He was sweating and he had B.O. But even worse than that…he had a boner. And it was pressing right into her stomach._

_But he had messed with the wrong girl._

_"Get off of me!" Sara managed to scream around his mouth. She lifted her foot up and brought it down onto his as hard as she could._

_"Shit!" Ricky screamed, releasing her._

_She took the opportunity to jab her knee straight into his groin. He went down like a rock, landing at her feet in a writhing pile, groaning loudly._

_Sara groped for the handle of the door and flung it open. Everyone sitting in the circle was already turned towards the laundry closet. They were staring at her with accusing glares, like she had done something wrong by daring to come out before the required seven minutes had passed._

_Carly, the party's supposed hostess, jumped to her feet. "Oh my god, Sara! What the hell did you do?"_

_Ricky was still moaning and clutching himself. Sara was pushed out of the way as one of his jock friends came to his aid. "She's a freak," Ricky whined to his friend._

_Sara looked at the other girls. Surely they'd be on her side. "He tried to put his tongue in my mouth," she explained._

_They were not exactly sympathetic, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. "You should have let him," one girl said with flip of her Farrah hair. "It's probably the last time you'll have a guy who's willing to."_

_"Who invited the gap-toothed bitch anyways?" another of the guys asked._

_Carly sighed. "Sara…if you're too much of a goody-goody to play the game right, just go home."_

_Sara was very proud of herself. She kept her chin high as she climbed the basement stairs with her overnight bag. She walked home in the dark._

_She told herself not to expect anything waiting for her at home. The whole day had passed without comment from anyone. Adam hadn't even shown up; he had a girlfriend in town, and couldn't be bothered with important dates._

_Her mother had stayed in bed all day, nursing a split lip. When Sara had asked if she could go to Carly's, she'd hoped the word "party" might jar her mother's fractured memory. But it hadn't._

_He was sitting in the kitchen when she let herself in the back door. He had a bottle of whisky and a half-full glass in front of him, but he was smiling. Sara's shoulders relaxed. This was the point where he was still all right. Another few drinks and it would be over. But hopefully she'd be in her room before then._

_"Look who's back!" His words were slurred. "Didja have fun at your party?"_

_Sara shook her head. "No." She walked by him, quickly and quietly. "Goodnight."_

_As she passed, he raised his whisky to her with a grin. "Happy birthday, kiddo."_

_She thought she wouldn't have minded if her father forgot her birthday. But as it turned out, he was the only one who remembered._

_Because it was safe to say it, and she still felt it despite everything, Sara walked back to him, kissed his cheek and whispered, "I love you, Daddy."_

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The hardest adjustment to make in coming back to the lab as just another CSI was losing his office. The space now belonged to Catherine, who had replaced his shelves with a buttery-leather couch and his functional metal desk with a wood and glass monstrosity that would have set anyone else in the lab back a paycheck or two. But not everyone had a large inheritance from the estate of Sam Braun.

Fortunately Catherine was as generous in life as her father had been in death. Or maybe she'd anticipated a potential problem and taken the measures necessary to eliminate it before it caused any friction on the already-overtaxed graveyard shift. Either way, she'd made arrangements to partition off part of the office that she wasn't using, and converted it into a mini-office for him. It wasn't much, but it was a place to rest his fetal pig.

Two weeks into his new job, which was really just his old job minus the endless paperwork and looming responsibility that came from managing five other people, Grissom was settling back into the familiar pattern of his life before Nick's kidnapping. Before his relationship with Sara had been irrevocably changed.

Grissom reached into the top drawer of his desk. It had been the smallest one he could find in the basement storage area, and it barely fit in the space Catherine had afforded him. But he was still grateful for her gesture of goodwill. He needed a quiet place where he could escape every now and then.

Underneath a stack of papers, he'd hidden a framed picture of Sara; he pulled it out and set it upright on the desk. In Tennessee, it had sat on his nightstand, a constant reminder that all good things must come to an end. He had every inch of the photograph memorized, but he could still stare at it for hours. Her smile was warm, wide and freely-given in the days before the lectures had started to take him away on weekends…before he'd met…

"Grissom, I've got your…" Warrick came around the flimsy partition, catching him completely off guard. He fumbled for the frame and tried to scoop it back into his desk drawer, but he was too late. "…tox report." He paused. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for that report," he said, standing up to block the picture with his body. He held out his hand for it.

Warrick handed it over somewhat reluctantly. "Sure." Having completed his task, he backed up a step. "See ya."

"Warrick." Grissom waited for him to turn. "Thanks."

"For what? It's just a tox report."

Grissom shook his head. "No. I meant…" The thought was there, but he had no idea how to express it.

Out of everyone he'd left behind, he'd always imagined that Warrick would be the most understanding. He'd explained it to him once, how quickly he would leave when it was his time to go. No parties, no goodbyes. With one small exception, he'd remained true to his word.

But ever since he'd returned to the team, no shoulder had been chiller than the one he'd received from Warrick. As they stood face to face, he realized there might as well have been a brick wall between them. And he had no idea how to maneuver around it.

"If you want to say something, say it," Warrick said with a touch of impatience.

Grissom released a breath. "Is this animosity temporary, or here to stay?"

Warrick put his hands on his hips with a strained chuckle. "I don't know, Grissom."

"Honesty is the best policy."

"Nick always thought so." There was a pause. "You know…my best friend spent the last two years of his life thinking a man he respected in so many ways wouldn't ever forgive him."

Looking down at the floor, Grissom nodded. "I know."

"You let it be his fault. When it had nothing to do with him."

"There were a lot of misunderstandings."

"All he did was love her. And all he wanted was your forgiveness for it." Warrick's brow furred. "But you wouldn't even give him that."

He glanced up. "I couldn't even give it to myself, Warrick."

"You crashed their wedding. Drunk, if I remember correctly. At least you could have come to his funeral." Shaking his head, Warrick stared at his former boss. "His funeral, man! Nick's dead! He's…" He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, forcing everything back. Everything except his anger. "He's gone."

Grissom had no will to defend himself by correcting Warrick. Besides, the man was only wrong about one thing.

"So, yeah…I got animosity. And I don't know when it's gonna clear up." Warrick turned and started off. "From now on, get your own damn reports. I don't work for you anymore."

Grissom ran his hands down the length of his face twice following his departure. While he'd never imagined coming back would be easy, he hadn't known it would be this hard.

His cell phone rang and he listlessly reached for it. "Grissom."

"Gil? It's me."

"Reese." He hung his head. When it rained, it stormed. "Is something the matter?"

On the other end, she hesitated. "No. I just…I just heard you're not coming back. Is it true?"

He let out a sigh. "Yes. I've taken a position here in Vegas."

"Why?" The question was small and soft.

Grissom had no idea what to say. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was a situation he'd allowed to get completely out of control. And now he had to deal with it.

"Reese, you're an intelligent young woman. And you will go far in this field. I'm honored to have inspired you to whatever degree I have."

"I don't understand," she said, her voice rising a notch. "I thought you liked…" She stopped. "I thought you liked it here."

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose. "You knew that my appointment at UT was only temporary."

"Yeah, but…I transferred up here just to…"

He gently cut her off. "I never asked you to do that."

"You didn't seem to mind that I did, though."

"Reese…" Grissom lifted his shoulders. "I don't know what to say. If I led you to believe something…"

There was a click and then the dial tone.

Closing up the phone, he shook his head. The photo of Sara lay face down on a stack of file folders. He slipped it back into his desk drawer.

No matter what his intentions, he usually ended up hurting someone.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: PhDelicious rocks as always. And my eternal thanks to everyone here and on the board for all the kind words:)

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

May 2005

_"I wasn't expecting that."_

_The woman lying beside him let out a sigh of pure satisfaction. "I was hoping for it."_

_Grissom turned his head just in time to see her do the same. Her cheeks were still flushed pink; her brow was damp with perspiration. "Really?"_

_"I don't usually take a pack of condoms with me on a first date." Sara shifted onto her side, propping her head up in her hand. "Are you having regrets?"_

_"No! No, Sara." He scratched his beard as a bead of sweat ran down from his temple. "I just don't want you to think I only asked you to dinner because I thought we'd end up here."_

_She smiled wickedly. "It's a good thing I seduced you then."_

_Looking up at the ceiling, he nodded with a smile of his own. "A very good thing."_

_When he glanced back at her, they locked eyes for a long time. It wasn't a dream, he realized. He really had just made love to Sara. And the world hadn't come to an end._

_But it certainly had changed._

_It was Sara who asked the question, maybe to spare him from having to be the one to do it. "What happens now?"_

_"I don't know," he answered truthfully._

_She lowered her eyes. "My suspension has put me on shaky ground with Ecklie. I know what you did to save my job. That can't have helped your standing any."_

_Grissom shook his head. "Sara Sidle is playing politics."_

_"And hating every second of it." She took a deep breath. "But when something's important, you do what you have to do."_

_He frowned and turned onto his side to see her better. "What are you saying?"_

_"I'm saying…" Sara brushed her thumb across his cheek. "Whatever we have to do to keep this…I'll do it. Even if that means pretending it doesn't exist."_

_Grissom's Adam's apple bobbed. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to shield her from the injustices of the world, from the harsh reality that was an inevitability of their lovemaking. Instead, she was offering him what she never should have had to: secrecy._

_It said more about her feelings than if she'd thrown her arms around him and declared her love in a dozen languages._

_"It won't be forever," he promised her, and at that moment, he truly believed it himself. "Just until…"_

_Sara pressed her fingers against his mouth. "Let's not make promises when we're here like this. It's enough." She leaned in and replaced her fingers with her lips. "You're enough."_

_Grissom caught her hand and brought it down to his chest, holding it against his heart._

_They lay in such exquisite silence for so long that he was sure she'd fallen asleep. But eventually, Sara sat up and pushed the covers off her legs. As she slipped into her clothes in the dark, he wanted to tell her to stop, to get back in bed and stay until morning. To stay forever. _

_But secrecy was a terrible master. It made prisoners of women. And cowards of men._

_"Thank you for dinner," Sara whispered. "Now we know what happens." She bent down and gave him a parting kiss. "I'll see you soon." And with another, even softer kiss, she left. The lingering scent of jasmine lured him into a fitful sleep._

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Being in prison for almost six years had given Laura a healthy wariness of anyone in law enforcement. So she had to ask herself…just how had she agreed to come with Sara to the annual LVPD picnic at Lake Mead?

She was surrounded by over two hundred off-duty police officers and detectives, not to mention dozens of crime scene technicians and lab personnel, all of whom seemed to be having a much better time than she was. But she had volunteered to keep an eye on Cassie while Sara mixed and mingled with her co-workers. It was a rare opportunity to observe her daughter at play.

The large T-shirt she wore over her shorts concealed her daughter's condition. Laura wasn't sure why Sara was keeping the baby a secret, especially now that she was out of the first trimester. It should have been something to celebrate. The baby would be a living tribute to a man everyone had loved.

So far, Sara had only told one other person, and for the life of her, Laura couldn't figure out why she'd chosen to tell Gil Grissom that she was pregnant. To hurt him? Maybe. But it didn't really seem like Sara to be deliberately cruel.

Perhaps she'd done it to create a wall around herself, like the baby would keep him away. Some natural defense just in case she wasn't able to resist him on her own.

But maybe that was over-thinking things.

"Ge-ge!"

Laura looked down at her granddaughter. This was a new development, and one that melted her heart every single time. Cassie had started calling for her in her own little way.

"Look at that!" she exclaimed over the mound of sand Cassie had piled up in front of her. "Aren't you smart?"

Cassie slammed her hands down into her little castle. "Mama!"

"Mama's just over there." Laura pointed for Cassie, pausing for a second when she spotted Gil Grissom. He was walking straight towards them.

Well, she didn't have to wonder much about what her daughter saw in the man. Sure, he was older than Sara by at least a decade, but she knew men younger than him who weren't nearly as well preserved.

He was wearing khaki pants rolled up at the bottoms to mid-calf and his feet were bare. His shirt was a Hawaiian print that would have been better left on the beaches of Waikiki. He had covered his salt-and pepper curls with a backwards baseball cap that should have seemed out of place, but somehow just fit.

"Laura," he greeted her, removing his sunglasses when he reached the shade that their umbrella provided. "How are you enjoying the picnic?"

"Just fine, thanks. It's a beautiful day for one."

"Yes, it is." He crouched down next to the blanket. "Hello, Cassie." When she offered him a handful of sand, he held out his palm to accept it. "Thank you." She gave him a toothy grin and went back to her ruined castle.

Watching the scene, Laura drew in a sharp, silent breath. "If you're looking for Sara…"

"Actually I was wondering if you and Cassie would do me the honor of accompanying me down to the lake."

She paused to consider his invitation. "All right," she finally decided. "Let me just put some more sunscreen on her."

The lake turned out to be perfect. A gently sloping hill separated the shore from the picnic area, so at the water's edge, the noise from the picnic was just a low hum of happy activity in the distance. Laura held Cassie's hand as they walked in the lukewarm surf. They made slow laps back and forth, with the little girl stopping occasionally to crouch down and pick up a stone or a leaf. Each one was a wonderful surprise for her; she would squeal with excitement as she displayed her find to them.

"She's a very happy child."

Laura nodded. "Yes, she is." They stopped again as Cassie found a twig. "Mr. Grissom…"

"Gil," he corrected her.

"Are you in love with my daughter?"

A strong breeze ruffled the open collar of his shirt. It looked like he was just about to answer when a familiar voice called to them from the top of the slope. Gil turned to look at the same time Laura did.

Sara gestured at them to come back. But Laura shook her head, and returned the gesture with one of her own, silently asking her daughter to join them. She hesitated for a second, crossing her arms over her stomach. Finally, Sara gave in and started down the hill towards the lake.

"Can you stay with Cassie for a minute?" She didn't give Gil a chance to turn her down. "Cassie, take Mr. Gil's hand." The little girl wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb. "Watch her," she advised. "Sometimes she slips away." She met Sara halfway up the grassy slope, well out of earshot of Gil and Cassie.

"What are you doing?" her daughter immediately asked.

"Enjoying the lake," Laura replied. She glanced over her shoulder. Gil had crouched down to look at something Cassie had picked up off the sand. "He's good with her, Sara."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Cassie lifted her arms to Gil, wanting to be picked up. The motion must have caught him off guard because he lost his footing and fell back into the surf. He sat, stunned and soaked for a second.

Sara covered her mouth with her hand, but Laura caught the edge of her smile.

"Okay, so he's not graceful," Laura added, chuckling. "But let's not hold that against him."

Cassie clapped her hands, applauding his performance. That's when Gil Grissom broke into the biggest smile she had seen on him yet. He reached for the little girl and lifted her into the air.

Her daughter's smile fell. "You should have asked me about this. Maybe I don't want him around her." But the way Sara looked past her and straight at Gil and Cassie told a different story.

"Sara, I know something happened between you two the night he came for dinner, and whatever it was, it wasn't good. But correct me if I'm wrong…there's still a 50-50 shot that he's Cassie's father, right?" Sara looked down at the grass. "Why not at least let her get to know him?"

Her daughter turned her gaze up to the blue sky. "I don't want Cassie to get attached to him."

"Because he hurt you?"

Sara leveled her stare. "Because he's Grissom."

"I don't know what that means." Laura followed Sara as she started towards the water. "Sara?"

But her daughter had already reached Gil and Cassie. He'd gotten back on his feet, but he was still holding the little girl. Laura hung back a few yards, watching to see what would unfold.

"Is this her first trip to the lake?" she heard Gil ask Sara.

"No. Nick and I took her to the picnic last year." Laura wondered if Sara knew that she'd already started resting her hand on her belly in the protective stance of a mother-to-be. "Since when are you into picnics? Especially ones that involve hundreds of co-workers?" She paused. "I could never get you to come out here before."

He transferred Cassie to his other arm. "I wish I'd known what I was missing." Glancing down at the baby, he added, "Things change, Sara."

Sara shook her head, like she didn't even want to try to analyze that. "At least your taste in shirts isn't one of them."

"I thought you liked this shirt."

"I liked…" She stopped. "Never mind." Holding out her arms, she said, "I'll take her."

Laura could see his reluctance, but he passed the little girl to her mother. Sara kissed her daughter's temple, turned and headed back up the hill.

Once they were gone, Gil released a sigh that was audible all the way to where Laura still stood. He dug one hand into the wet pocket of his khakis, and wiped away lingering drops of water from his face with the other.

Laura approached him. He was staring up at the slope; Sara had put Cassie down on her feet, allowing her to toddle back to the picnic area. With a single glance back at the lake, Sara followed her daughter until she too vanished from sight.

"In case you're still wondering…" he said out loud, his eyes glued to the spot where Sara had just stood. "Yes."

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Muchos gracias to my always-appreciated beta, PhDelicious, as well as anyone out there who's reading this. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my story. It means a lot to me.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

December 1985

_"Go ahead, Sara. Open it."_

_She looked down at the brightly wrapped package on her lap, then back up at the woman who had handed it to her. There was excitement in Cassandra's eyes; her foster mother was actually thrilled about giving Sara this present._

_More than anything, it confused her._

_It was no secret that she was a difficult placement. Fourteen was too old to be cute, and very few families wanted to deal with the emotional baggage that came with a teenager who'd witnessed what she had. Within a matter of weeks, the families would get sick of her, coming up with any excuse to get rid of her._

She never smiles.

We can't seem to get her to connect with us.

She has nightmares that wake the younger children.

We just find her too…complicated.

_And just like that, she'd be sent off to a new home. She tried to make the best of every placement…seven so far…but every time she was shuffled to a new house in a new neighborhood with a new school, it got harder to pretend to be normal._

_But Cassandra had never asked her to be perky or cute or anything. She'd welcomed Sara into her home with open arms, given her a room of her own, bought her new clothes and school supplies, and respected her privacy. She was warm without being smothering. Friendly without treating Sara like a child._

_It wasn't what foster homes were like. It wasn't what foster parents were like. Sara kept waiting for her caseworker to show up and announce that she'd be moving. Everything she'd arrived with was still in her suitcase. Nothing good ever lasted._

_"Sara?" Cassandra looked at her husband, but he was buried in his newspaper. He was all right; he didn't try to catch her coming out of the shower like one foster father had. Sometimes Sara wasn't sure he cared if she lived there or not, and that was just fine with her._

_Sara slipped the red ribbon off, and tore at the paper. She frowned at the picture on the box that now lay bare in front of her._

_"It's a Walkman," Cassandra said. "It plays cassette tapes."_

_She knew exactly what it was; every rich kid at her current school had one. They flaunted them in front of the other kids like diamonds. Sometimes Sara found herself staring at someone listening to one. With the earphones playing music just for them, they always seemed to be in their own world. She envied them. They could block out everyone else, even if just for the length of a song._

_But now…that escape had been handed to her. It was probably the best gift she'd ever received. But Sara was afraid to say anything, afraid to even look up at Cassandra. She didn't want her foster mother to see what this meant to her. Because when you let people know what you were really feeling, they could use it against you._

_"I don't have any cassettes," she finally said._

_"Well, there are still packages under the tree with your name on them," Cassandra said gently. "Do you like it?"_

_Sara swallowed and allowed herself just a peek at Cassandra's face. "It's neat. Thanks."_

_Cassandra slipped off the couch and kneeled next to Sara. "If you don't like it, we can take it back and get you something you want."_

_"No!" She bit her lip. "I mean…it's okay. This is okay."_

_"Sara…" The woman took her hand. "I know that the holidays are hard. You're probably missing your mother and your brother…your father. You have every right to be feeling whatever it is that you're feeling." She tucked a wavy lock of hair behind Sara's ear. "You know, I haven't had anyone to buy presents like this for since my son died. So really…you're making my Christmas special just by being here."_

_"I like the Walkman," Sara whispered. "Thank you."_

_Cassandra kissed her forehead. "I'm very glad. And you're very welcome."_

_She pulled away. She couldn't help it. Reflexes. Cassandra seemed to understand. Later that night, Sara fell asleep to Tears for Fears._

Welcome to your life…there's no turning back…

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Sara wasn't surprised when Catherine finally paired her up with Grissom. She was only surprised that the woman had been able to hold off as long as she had. It had been too much to hope that their supervisor would have the tact to consider their history before making assignments. She liked to meddle too much.

"Gil, Sara. 419 in the desert." Catherine handed Sara the slip of paper. Noticing the look she got in return, she added, "Sorry."

"Who's primary?" Grissom asked.

Looking back and forth between them, Catherine raised her hands. "I'll leave that up to you."

"Fine," Sara snapped. "But I'm driving."

Warrick glanced at Greg. "Glad I don't have to be in that car," he muttered. Greg nodded his agreement.

Twenty minutes later, they left the lights of Vegas behind as they started into the dark desert. The silence in the Denali was overwhelming. Sara took one hand off the wheel and turned on the radio. She'd no sooner settled on a station than Grissom reached over and turned it off.

"You could have just said that you didn't feel like music."

Grissom shifted in his seat to see her better. "How are you doing?"

Frowning, she turned her head just enough to see him. "I'm fine. Why?"

"I was just asking." He paused for a moment. "Have you had a sonogram yet?"

"Next week." Sara shook her head. "Why are you being so chatty?"

He blinked. "Is my talking bothering you?"

"Frankly, yes, a little. I used to have to pull teeth to get you into a conversation." She gripped the steering wheel tightly. "This must be a post-Reese evolution."

Grissom sighed. "Can we please not talk about…"

"Oh, I get it. You want to talk, but just as long as you get to talk about what you want to, and nothing else." Sara nodded. "Now that's the Gil Grissom that I know and…"

"And what?"

Instead of answering, she turned the radio back on.

They arrived at the scene thirty very long minutes later. Detective Vartann was waiting for them. As he ran through what little was known about the victim, Sara couldn't shake the feeling that Grissom was watching her. A glance at him confirmed this.

It was going to be a very long night if she let this go on. So when Vartann was done, Sara picked up her kit. "I'm going to start at the perimeter and work my way in. Gris…you stay with the body."

She wasn't sure if doling out tasks made her the primary, but all she could think about was getting away from that blue stare. And if she had to take the more mundane of the jobs that needed to be done in order to escape, so be it.

Her first few laps around the search area yielded little more than a few wayward footprints that were probably from the hikers who'd found the body.

Sara was fifty yards away from the main source of light, with only her Maglite guiding the way when he spotted something in the rocks ahead. But as she went for it, she tripped. And the next thing she knew, she was heading straight for the hard ground. In mid-air, she twisted to protect her stomach. Her hip hit first, and the shock of the impact jarred her whole body.

She was too stunned, and too embarrassed, to call out for help. She lay on her side for a second, catching her breath from the adrenaline rush. Slowly, she started to pick herself up. Her gloves had kept her from scraping up her hands too badly, and her jeans had saved her legs from the same fate.

Sara cursed herself. She'd be sore as hell in the morning.

An hour later, she limped her way back to the center of the scene with nothing to show for her time but the bruises that were probably already forming. David had arrived and was in the middle of loading the body into the coroner's van.

Grissom looked up from his notes. "David estimates he's been out here ten to twelve hours." He stopped when he noticed her limp. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"You're limping."

Sara sighed. "I stepped down wrong. Twisted my ankle the wrong way. Nothing major."

He set his clipboard down. "Let me take a look at it."

"Look, it hurts more to stand here talking about it than it would if I were moving, so can we just…"

She was cut off by a shooting pain in her abdomen. Unconsciously, her hand shot out and grabbed the first thing she could reach as she doubled over. And it happened to be Grissom's arm.

"Honey?" He covered her hand with his other one. "What is it?"

Sara shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly against the pain. There was a warm wetness at the center of her body that she could feel slowly soaking into her jeans. When she opened her eyes and looked down, all she saw was red.

Grissom looked down at the same time. "Oh god…David!" He put his arm around Sara, supporting her before she collapsed. "I've got you…I've got you, honey. David!"

The junior coroner ran over to them. "What's wrong?"

"She's bleeding." His words were frantic. "She's pregnant."

David hesitated little more than half a second before his medical training came rushing back to him. "Sara, when did this start?"

"Just now." Her teeth chattered with fear. "I fell…out there. I thought I was okay…"

"There's pain and bleeding?" he asked. She nodded. "Okay, let's not panic, all right?" He looked at Grissom. "It could be any number of things, not necessarily a miscarriage."

Sara sucked in a breath. "No…no, it can't be…I can't lose this baby…" The pain had her practically on her knees. "God…no, please!"

David took her hand. "Sara, I need you to calm down. Take deep breaths. We're going to get you to the hospital, okay?" She nodded. "Okay. Grissom, let's get her lying down in the backseat of your car. You take her straight to the hospital, and I'll take the evidence in with the body."

"Come on, honey," Grissom said. But Sara couldn't seem to make her body work. He didn't pause. He gently lifted her into his arms and carried her to the Denali.

"Gil." She clutched at his collar as he helped her into the backseat. The last time she'd called him that, they'd been in bed the night before he left for that fateful trip to New Orleans. "This can't be happening…"

His hands cupped her face. "Honey, you're going to be fine. You and your baby. I promise."

Tears streamed down her temples. "I can't lose this, too. I just…can't. I…can't!"

His lips touched hers softly. The kiss was nothing but chaste reassurance. "I'm not going to let you down. Can you trust me?"

She gulped for breath, nodding. "I never wanted to stop."

Grissom ripped out the emergency blanket they kept stored under the front seat, and draped it around her. "We need to keep you warm. And you need to keep talking to me. Understand?" His hand lingered on her cheek before he ducked out of the car and closed the door. A moment later, he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.

Sara rested both hands on her belly and closed her eyes against the jostle of the Denali over the rocky ground.

"Sara," Grissom's voice was firm and insistent. "Talk to me, honey."

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. The sticky wetness below her waist was still fresh and warm. She was still bleeding. And with every second, she could feel the tiny life inside of her slipping away to be with its father.

"Nick," she whispered. "Help us…"

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's reading this, and double special thanks to PhDelicious for her beta-ing.

Updates will be less frequent from now on, as I started a new job this week. Sorry, but you know what the song says...I work hard for the money.

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

August 2006

_"Dr. Grissom!"_

_The terminal at Louis Armstrong International was jam-packed with people, every one of whom seemed to be speaking at the top of their lungs, yet Grissom heard his name quite clearly. It was hard to miss when it was being shouted across the gate._

_Adjusting the straps of his carry-on bags, Grissom approached the girl doing the shouting. Not only was she waving her arm so he wouldn't miss her, she held a piece of notebook paper that had his name written in thick, black marker._

_"Are you Dr. Grissom?" She didn't give him time to nod. "Of course you are! I recognize you from your picture in the lecture brochure." Tucking his name under her arm, she held out her hand. "Welcome to New Orleans."_

_She couldn't have been more than twenty-five; she wore jeans and flip-flops. Masses of silky brown curls tumbled over her tanned, bare shoulders. Her nails were short, but perfectly manicured. And her wrist was decorated by a diamond tennis bracelet._

_Grissom shook her cool hand guardedly. "Thank you." There was a pause. She was studying him with what could only be described as interest. He just hoped it was intellectual curiosity. He cleared his throat. "Well, we both know who I am…"_

_"Oh! I'm so sorry! I'm Reese Callahan." Her voice dripped Dixie. "I'm from the university. I'm here to give you a ride."_

_"What did you do to get stuck with that job?"_

_She laughed. "I could say that I'm a first year grad student, and as such, I get sent on a lot of errands. But in all honesty, I asked for this one." Without elaborating further, she asked, "Did you check anything in Vegas?"_

_"Um…no." He patted his shoulder bag and laptop. "This is it."_

_"Great, then we can get going!" Reese gestured him in the right direction to exit the terminal. "How was your flight?"_

_He was too puzzled by the sudden twist in his travel routine to answer her. "You know, they didn't need to send you all the way out here. I could have just taken the shuttle."_

_"Oh, the shuttle doesn't go where you're going. And cabs are so expensive."_

_"The shuttle doesn't go to the Holiday Inn?"_

_"I'm sure it does." She winked. "But you're not going there. I think you're going to like your new hotel, though."_

_Grissom frowned. "New hotel?"_

_"Yeah, I hope you don't mind, but I talked my thesis professor into getting the department to put you up somewhere else for this trip. I can't believe they've been making you stay in an airport motel! Men. This is why more women need to get involved in our field." She shook her head vigorously, and he caught a whiff of something flowery. He couldn't quite put a name to the scent, though. "You'll have a much more pleasant stay at this new place."_

_"And what makes you sure of that?" It wasn't jasmine. He knew that for sure. Jasmine was Sara's scent._

_When the girl smiled, her porcelain cheeks dimpled. "Well, for starters, my father owns it."_

_As they made their way through the airport, Reese continued to chatter about her father's hotel and how it had miraculously survived the hurricane, which she had missed while she was vacationing in Napa Valley. While they waited for the valet to bring her Escalade around, she talked about her undergraduate degree in biology, and how her father was convinced that she'd be applying for medical school any day, even though she had just been accepted into the forensics program at Tulane._

_By the time they were on I-10 heading towards the city, she'd moved on to how she'd never given any thought to bugs at all, except what was the best way to keep them out of a dorm room, until she'd started reading up on him._

_It was flattering, but it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before._

_Reese was in mid-sentence when Grissom felt his phone vibrate. "Excuse me," he interrupted, and reached into his coat for it. The screen displayed one word that made his blossoming headache go away. He answered with a smile that he had to fight to hide. "Hello."_

_"Hello to you." Sara's voice was a throaty antidote to his driver's sugary drawl. "I take it you got there safely?"_

_"Relatively."_

_"And is New Orleans just as you left it?" There was a trace of bitterness there, but it wasn't the time to explore it. If he was honest with himself, he half-hoped he'd never have to at all._

_"Appears to be." He hesitated. As much as he wanted to talk to Sara, he didn't particularly want an audience. "Listen, Sara, I'm going to have to call you back. We're about to cross Lake Pontchartrain, and the reception could get bad."_

_"Sure. Yeah." Sara wasn't very convincing in her attempt to hide her disappointment, but there wasn't much he could do about it right then. "Um…talk to you later." She ended the call abruptly._

_With a silent curse, Grissom slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Sorry about that."_

_Reese shook her head; the flower scent was from her shampoo, he realized. "No problem. But I think you're a little turned around. We won't be going over the lake."_

_"Oh." Guilt twisted into his heart. He knew exactly where they were. "My mistake."_

_A moment passed. "Was that your wife?"_

_"I'm not married."_

_"Girlfriend?"_

_Being hard-pressed to give Sara a title even in his own mind, how could he be expected to define their relationship to a stranger? He settled on the barest of truths. _

_"She's a co-worker of mine. I'll be mentioning a few of her cases in my lecture tomorrow."_

_The girl's dimples made another appearance. "I can't wait! I absolutely eat up anything to do with female crims. We're a rare bunch." When she glanced at him, there was definitely more than just professional admiration in her gaze. "It'll still be early by the time we get you checked in. What are your plans for the rest of the day?"_

_His preliminary schedule had included preparing for the lecture and calling Sara to find out what she was wearing._

_She rushed on, like she didn't really want to hear his answer. "You know, my father is on the board of trustees for the Audubon Zoo. They're hosting a rare collection of insects from Asia right now. If you're interested, I could get us a VIP tour."_

_Magnolias. That was the scent. Southern, fragrant, beautiful and toxic if handled improperly._

_It wasn't until the next day when her name came up in the lecture that Grissom realized he'd never called Sara back. He hoped she'd understand. After all, the exhibit had included _Coccinella septempunctata, _the seven-spotted ladybug._

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The first person Laura saw as she rushed into the emergency room with Cassie on her hip was Gil Grissom. She came to an abrupt stop.

He sat alone at the end of a lengthy bank of hard, molded plastic seats. His back was hunched over, like he was trying to alleviate nausea by putting his head between his legs. There was movement all around him as doctors and nurses walked back and forth, but he remained still, frozen in despair.

"Ge-ge," Cassie said suddenly. Cranky from having her sleep interrupted, she rubbed her eyes with her little fists. "Go!

Her tired protests were a bit too loud for the waiting room. Gil lifted his head and looked over at them. And what Laura saw in the centers of his eyes made her own anxiety almost unbearable. The man was grieving. Like he hadn't even at Nick's funeral.

She held onto Cassie and braced herself for the worst. "How is she?"

"They won't tell me anything." His voice was hoarse. "I'm not family."

Laura couldn't make sense of any of it. Sara had left for work complaining about eating everything in sight and still being hungry. Six hours later, she was in the hospital, and her baby's life, as well as her own, hung in the balance. "She just started bleeding?"

"She said…she fell." Gil hung his head again. "I don't know. I wasn't with her." It sounded like he'd be blaming himself for that indefinitely.

Laura sank into the seat next to him. Cassie was squirming, a sure sign that she'd be crying soon. She wished she could join her. More than anything she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. _Don't take my daughter's baby from her._

_Don't take my daughter…_

"She was just starting to get excited about the pregnancy." Her eyes filled with scorching tears. "I caught her looking in the mirror the other day to see if she was showing yet. She even talked to her stomach when she thought she was alone." She paused. "There should be a limit to how much loss you have to suffer in one lifetime."

The man beside her scrubbed his hands down his face. "They've had her back there for an hour."

Laura hesitated a second before lifting Cassie up. "Take her." She deposited the cranky child onto Gil's lap; both of them seemed stunned by her move. "I'm going to find a doctor."

The ER receptionist was on the phone when she approached; Laura folded her arms and waited until the woman hung up. A full three minutes. Finally, her presence was acknowledged.

"My daughter was brought in earlier. Sara Sidle. I want to see her right now."

Five minutes later, a nurse escorted her back into the exam rooms. "She's in there," the nurse said, gesturing to a closed door.

"Thank you." Laura took a breath before entering, preparing herself for whatever lay ahead. They hadn't been able to tell her much, only that Sara was stable. There had been nothing said about the baby.

Sara was asleep, so Laura carefully made her way over to the bed and lowered herself into a chair next to her. It had been over twenty years since she'd last held her daughter's hand; she reached for it now, but with only the lightest brush of her mother's fingertips against her pale skin, Sara woke with a start.

"Gil?"

Laura drew her hand back. "Shh. No, Sara. It's me."

Sara closed her eyes, her body visibly relaxing. "Where's Cassie?"

"Don't worry. She's fine." She paused. "Are you all right? The baby…" She swallowed the bitter taste of fear in the back of her throat. "He said you fell. And that you were bleeding…"

Her daughter shook her head against her pillow. "They called it a threatened miscarriage. It wasn't the fall. Just one of those things. But the baby's hanging on. For now."

"For now? What does that mean?"

"I'll be on bed rest for a week or so, and if there's no more bleeding, we'll be out of the woods." Sara's chin quivered. "They did…um…an ultrasound." She took a breath. "They think it's a boy."

Relief coursed through her. "Oh, Sara."

Sara held up her hand, quite literally blocking her mother's joy. "I can't. Not until I know for sure if he…if it will be all right."

Laura couldn't blame her daughter for not allowing herself to get too attached to the fragile life she'd created with Nick. She couldn't say that she wouldn't have done the same thing.

"So…" She searched for something to say. "Will they be keeping you here?"

"Just another few hours for observation."

"Can I bring you anything? Do you want me to go get Cassie? She's just out front with…"

Sara shook her head. "No. I don't want to frighten her by making her see me like this." She indicated her IV, but the needle wasn't what caught Laura's attention. There were a few stray smears of rusty-brown on her daughter's hospital gown.

She was staring at them so intently that she didn't hear Sara calling for her attention. Laura blinked. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Who has Cassie?" Sara repeated.

"Gil," she said a second later.

Her daughter turned away, looking towards the window. Laura wasn't sure what she hoped to find there. But when Sara looked back, she asked, "Can you bring him here?"

Laura took her time walking back through the maze of identical corridors to the waiting room. When she passed through the final set of double doors, she paused to take in the scene in front of her.

Gil was sitting right where she'd left him. Cassie was still on his lap, but instead of crying or wriggling like Laura had figured she would be by that point, she was sound asleep, her chubby cheek pressed against the center of his chest.

But that alone wasn't what made her stop to stare. It was the way Gil was looking down at the little girl. She could only describe it as the way an artist might look upon his greatest sculpture.

Laura cleared her throat to get his attention. "She wants to see you."

The child in his arms kept him from leaping to his feet, but just barely. His features were heavy with worry; he looked five years older overnight. "Is she…?"

"She's fine. They're both fine." Laura gently picked up her granddaughter, eliciting a sleepy whimper from her. "Come on."

When they reached the door to Sara's exam room, Laura peeked through the glass observation window. Sara was dozing. One hand cupped her belly protectively; the other lay by her side.

Looking back at Gil, Laura asked, "Do you believe in second chances?" He seemed to be searching for an answer, but she wasn't willing to wait. "You should." Adjusting Cassie's weight on her shoulder, she tilted her head towards the door.

She waited until it closed behind him before peering through the glass again. Gil approached Sara slowly, and took the same seat she had. He let a few seconds slip by before he took her free hand between his. Lowering his chin, he squeezed his eyes shut like it physically hurt to see her in that condition.

It didn't take a lip-reader to make out the words he spoke to her sleeping daughter.

"Sara…I'm sorry."

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to PhDelicious for all her help, and double thanks to everyone for hanging in with me even though my writing time's been cut in half and updates are so much slower. You all rock:)

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The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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May 1989

_"And now, it's my great pleasure to introduce this year's valedictorian. This young lady not only holds the highest GPA in her class, she graduates tonight with a full scholarship to Harvard University. Please give a warm welcome to Miss Sara Sidle."_

_The salutatorian who had spoken before her had an entire section of the gym full of family members who had jumped to their feet in wild congratulatory joy at the mere mention of his name._

_But Sara walked to the podium to nothing but the polite applause of hundreds of strangers, and her classmates who might as well have been. She tried to smile, but public speaking had never been one of her favorite things. Her hands trembled a bit as she smoothed down the copy of her speech that she'd had folded in her fist. Not that she thought she'd need it. She had the whole thing memorized._

_"Thank you, Mr. Welch. Good evening teachers, honored guests, and my fellow students. It's my privilege to address you tonight on behalf of the Class of 1989." She paused for effect, but also to take a calming breath._

_"Graduation is traditionally the time when we think the most about the next step in our lives. For months now, everyone gathered here tonight has planned for, dreamed of and probably even feared what's to come. But as Albert Einstein once said 'I never think of the future; it comes soon enough.' Like Einstein, it's been my experience that you can't plan for the future. It happens whether you're prepared or not. The best you can hope to do is learn from the past and live in the present."_

_"We're not friends. In fact, I'm sure many of you looked at your programs and were surprised to learn I was in your class at all. We didn't cheer together at football games or sell brownies at bake sales. In ten years, I know I'll have to introduce myself at the reunion as though we've never met before. But if I can make any impact on you today, let it be this. The past is over. The future has yet to come. The present is where you live your life. It is the only time that is truly yours."_

_Sara looked down at her speech, willing her eyes to remain dry. "I wish the people who taught me this lesson could be here tonight. But in their absence, I have learned perhaps the greatest lesson of my life. Self-reliance. We are all about to come face to face with true independence. I hope we temper it with responsibility and maturity. For as Simone Weil said, 'the future is made of the same stuff as the present,' and if that is to be believed, then how we live our lives within the next few months could very well define us in the future far better than the labels we have worn for the past four years. Or even the past eighteen."_

_A warm breeze swept over her, making her tassel dance. "Ten years from now, we'll gather together again on the brink of a new millennium. I look forward to seeing who we will be and how far we will have gone. Until then, I wish the Class of 1989 the best of luck. Thank you."_

_It took a second for the applause to come, like the audience wasn't quite sure how to respond to her words._

_Sara slipped back into her seat next to the salutatorian. His name was Tyler. They'd had advanced chemistry together, and even though their GPA's had competed for the coveted title of valedictorian for a long time, they hadn't ever spoken. As the principal began calling out names to come up and receive diplomas, Tyler took little, semi-discreet glances at her until she finally acknowledged him. "What?"_

_"Your parents didn't come tonight."_

_She stared straight ahead at the stage. "No."_

_"Why not?"_

_"They had better things to do, I guess," Sara replied._ Like making license plates and pushing up daises.

_"That's really rough." Because he sounded genuine, she forgave him for changing the subject so quickly. "Listen, there's going to be a party later out at the Point. Big 'bonfire on the beach' thing. You interested?"_

_She had the vague notion that his interest lay less in getting to know her as a person, and more to do with getting to know what color her underwear was. After Cassandra had passed away from breast cancer eight months earlier and Sara had gone to live in a group home, she'd come to recognize the early warning signs that someone might be thinking she'd make a fun playmate. And so far, she'd been successful in avoiding any and all advances._

_But she would be clear across the country in less than a week. And while Tyler might not have known her name before that night, she'd certainly noticed him. Not many guys could solve a quadratic equation in under a minute, and make jeans look really good._

_She hadn't been expecting a ball of light anymore than she'd been expecting an orgasm, so she wasn't disappointed when she got neither that night. Tyler was surprisingly nice about the whole thing. He even stuck around for a few minutes afterwards to make sure she was all right before he rejoined his friends._

_Sara didn't regret losing her virginity down the beach from where her classmates were celebrating by getting plastered on cheap beer. But she did make herself a promise as she sat on the sand, watching the waves crash up onto the rocks._

_This would be the only time she had sex without any emotional investment at all. If she put her body out there, her heart would go with it. And she'd risk having it broken if it meant she would never feel so empty again._

_"Elaine Maxwell," she said to the surf and the stars. "Whether I fail or succeed shall be no man's doing but my own."_

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The body was a mess of cross-contamination, having been moved at least twice before a Boy Scout troop on a quest for hiking merit badges stumbled upon it. Usually, Grissom was up for the challenge of figuring out which bugs had arrived first, and determining how long they'd been there. But in the days after Sara's near miscarriage, he found himself almost too distracted to work.

He wanted to be by her side, like she'd let him be in the hospital. She'd woken up and reached for his hand, and just like that, his life made sense again.

Grissom collected specimens and took notes, going through the motions of doing his job. But his mind was with Sara. It always had been. Even when he didn't want to think about her, she was there.

Maybe if he'd let her know that, things would have turned out very differently.

"Hey, Grissom." He was jerked out of his thoughts by his partner on the case, turning his head away from the body just in time to see a flash go off in his eyes.

Grinning madly, Greg lowered the camera and examined the digital screen. "Wow. Can you say 'deer in headlights'?"

Grissom was about to ask him if he could say "unemployment" when he realized it would be an empty threat. All he could do was glare at his co-worker. "You have to delete that, you know."

"And eventually I will." Slipping the camera's strap around his neck, Greg knelt down next to him. "So, how long until your friends can give us TOD?"

"When I know, you'll know." He plucked a beetle off the man's sucking chest wound and dropped it in a specimen cup. "What are the most common types of beetles found…"

Greg cut him off with the correct answer delivered in a bored tone. "You realize I've been Level 2 for awhile now, right? I'm moving past the pop quiz stage of our relationship." A moment of awkward silence slipped by as Grissom kept collecting insects. "A lot's changed since you left."

"I realize that." Grissom added a strip of beef jerky from his pocket to the jar.

A cold and dusty wind blew over them. "How's Sara?" Greg suddenly asked.

Grissom paused as he screwed the lid on, sealing up his evidence. "I don't know." There was a slight hitch that he couldn't keep out of his voice. "I haven't seen her since the hospital." He didn't feel the need to add that Sara's life was complicated enough as she waited to see if her baby would survive without the additional burden of having to deal with their complicated relationship.

"I can't believe she's pregnant," the younger man said, shaking his head. "Course, I couldn't believe it the first time, either. Man…" He looked up at the starry sky. "Nick's probably doing cartwheels up there. He wanted a whole passel of kids, you know. Must be a Southern thing. Personally, I…"

"Greg," Grissom cut him off mid-ramble. "I'm sure this man wouldn't appreciate the fact that we're having this discussion over his dead body."

He could feel Greg studying his profile, and he tried to keep the twitch out of his jaw. He should have just let the younger man talk. At least it would have kept him occupied. "Huh. Guess some things haven't changed," Greg noted sagely. He stood up. "I get that even though you're not my boss anymore, you feel like you've gotta keep some distance between us, but I just need to say something here." It took him a second to continue. "I don't know what all happened…why you left…but if you came back just because she's single now…"

The insinuation made him bristle. "Not everything I do revolves around Sara."

Greg frowned. "Why the hell not?" When Grissom looked up at him, he went on, "Do you even know how lucky you are? She had feelings for you, man. And they weren't brotherly. At least Nick knew what he had. It was a lot easier to watch her be in love with someone who loved her back."

"What were they like together?" Grissom couldn't keep the question from slipping out.

"He was happy. She was…"

"She was what?"

Scratching the back of his head, Greg sighed. "There are different levels of happy, I guess."

"They weren't on the same level?" he asked quietly.

"When it came to Cassie, yeah. Absolutely. But it's hard not to be crazy about that kid." Having landed back on a safe topic, Greg's mouth ran off him with again. "Nick sure was. I guess having a job like ours makes you overprotective of your kids. Nick could tell you anything about Cassie, down to her blood type. He wasn't psychotic, just naturally…"

"What is her blood type?"

Greg blinked. "Um…O, I think he said. Why?"

Grissom stood up with his bugs. "I'm going to head back to the lab," he informed his partner without answering his question. "Finish processing and meet me there."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Thank god you said that, or else I might have spent the next hour picking my nose."

With a glare, Grissom left. He drove straight back to the lab, but instead of starting on the linear regression, he used the master key from Catherine's desk to get into the file room.

Fortunately, Nick's personnel file hadn't been moved to storage yet. It was still filed in the employee cabinet, right after Sara's. He pulled both of them, with only a momentary pang of consciousness for the slight invasion of privacy he was about to commit.

The information he wanted was available on both of their emergency cards. His eyes moved back and forth between their files as he processed what he was seeing. When he was absolutely certain, when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, the revelation was so powerful that he had to remind himself to keep breathing.

Sara's blood type was A. Nick was AB. It was a simple serology equation. A plus AB could not create O. But A plus O could. And as fate would have it, his blood type was O positive.

Cassie was his daughter.

He wasn't sure whether he should thank Greg Sanders or donate his body to the Farm.

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: A million thanks go out to my beta, PhDelicious, who puts up with me and my constant fiddling;) And thanks to everyone else who keeps up with this story, and gives such awesome feedback.

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

September 2006

_"So, Grissom…didja bring us anything from N'awlins?"_

_Warrick shook his head at Greg. "Man, you ask that every time he gets back."_

_"And yet I'm still without a voodoo doll."_

_Across the table, Nick snickered. "What are you gonna do with a voodoo doll, Greggo?"_

_Catherine hid a smile behind her hand. "Curl up with it at night?"_

_"Nah, he's got something inflatable for that," Warrick snarked._

_The man to whom the question had been directed sighed. Assignments would have to wait until the banter passed. As Grissom looked around the table, he paused for a few extra seconds on the woman who was sitting back, listening, but not participating. A smile played on Sara's lips. The same lips that had warmed his only an hour earlier._

_He swallowed when her head turned and she caught him staring at her. Dropping his eyes down to his assignments, Grissom cleared his throat. "Warrick, Greg…you've got a home invasion in Summerlin." He looked at Catherine. "Cath, you and Sara have a 419 in the Venetian's canal."_

_"Any more details than that?" Sara asked. Her question was pointed, but no one else seemed to catch on._

_"You know everything I do," he replied. "Nick, we've got a body dump out on Blue Diamond Road." Glancing around again, he added, "Everyone's got work. Let's get to it."_

_Sara took her time getting up, lingering until it was just her and Grissom and Nick left in the room._

_"Can we talk for a second?" she asked him. "Grissom?"_

_Nick stuck his thumb in the general direction of the garage. "I'll just be waiting at the…"_

_Just then, Catherine stuck her head back into the room. "Sara, I'd like to get there before the hotel figures out that a floater is bad for business." She tapped her size seven Manolo until Sara shook her head and started for the door. "Bye-bye, boys," Catherine said as they left._

_Grissom released a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding in. Since his arrival back in Vegas, he and Sara had done everything together. Made love, slept, showered, fixed and consumed a meal and dressed for work. But the one thing they hadn't done was talk, at least not beyond "yes, right there" and "pass the syrup."_

_If Nick noticed that something was preoccupying his boss, he didn't say anything about it until they were halfway down Blue Diamond. Grissom was driving, and up until then, it had been a silent ride, save for the classic rock on the radio._

_"Hey, Gris," Nick suddenly said. "I'm worried about Sara."_

_The mention of her name made his stomach spiral. He reached out and turned down the music. "What do you mean?"_

_"It's nothing really big. Just a lot of little things, you know?" Nick scratched his closely-cropped head. "She's just been off lately. It's like she's always in slow motion."_

_"Slow motion," Grissom repeated._

_"Yeah, I can't explain it better than that. Cath thinks she's seeing someone." He could almost feel Nick trying not to watch him for a reaction to that. Grissom stared straight ahead at the road. "I kind of hope she is, so at least there's a reason for her being like this."_

_Gripping the steering wheel, Grissom evenly replied, "Sara is a very private person, Nick. I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate us gossiping about her personal life."_

_The younger man frowned. "Is it gossiping to worry about a friend when she's…"_

_Nick was cut off by a beep from Grissom's phone. Watching him fumble to hold onto the wheel and answer it, Nick asked, "Can I get that for you?"_

_Grissom flipped the phone open. It wasn't a call, but a text message alert._

Back safe? Tinkerbell misses you already. R.

_It wasn't until Nick asked, "Who's Tinkerbell?" that Grissom realized that he was holding the phone away just far enough that Nick could read the message from the passenger's seat._

_He snapped the phone closed. "A four-inch palmetto bug one the Tulane grad students decided to keep as a pet."_

_Nick raised both eyebrows. "Guess you're rubbing off on those kids, Gris." He paused for a second. "You really haven't noticed anything off about Sara?" Before Grissom could answer, he shook his head. "Hey, I know. You're not around all that much these days."_

_"I'll keep it in mind, Nick." He turned the music up, effectively killing the conversation._

_They arrived at their scene a few minutes later. Grissom hung back at the car for a few seconds, just long enough to delete the message from Reese. He kept his phone out as he followed Nick's path to the body. His thumb flew over the phone's buttons, typing a message of his own._

My place for breakfast. Ciao, cara mia.

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The baby held on. He was strong, like his father.

After ten days in bed without any further pain or spotting, Sara felt strong enough to venture downstairs. She stopped on the landing when she heard Cassie's squealing laughter coming from the backyard. She smiled; it was her favorite sound in the world.

The sliding glass door was already ajar. Sara pushed it aside further and stepped into the sunshine for the first time in over a week. Squinting, she shielded her eyes with her hand as she searched the backyard for her daughter.

She froze when she saw Cassie on the far side of the lawn. She was sitting on a blanket that had been spread out on the grass, playing with her plastic keyboard, laughing with delight at the incoherent notes she made by banging on the keys. And she wasn't alone.

Grissom was sitting next to her.

"Hey, you're up." Sara nearly jumped out of her skin as her mother came up behind her with two glasses of iced tea in her hands. "How are you feeling?"

"A little confused." Pointing out the door, Sara clarified, "You didn't tell me we had company."

Laura smiled softly as she joined her daughter in watching the two people on the picnic blanket. Grissom clapped his hands, applauding the little girl's music like it was a great symphony. "They're quite the pair."

"I told you I didn't want her getting attached to him."

"Are you sure it's not the other way around?" Laura shook her head. "Sara, this man is a part of your life. If he wasn't, you wouldn't have asked for him in the hospital."

Sara hugged her arms around her stomach. "I was scared."

"I know. So was he." Her mother stepped past her. "Why don't you join us? It's a beautiful day, and you could use the fresh air."

Grissom looked away from Cassie and towards the house. Their eyes met across the yard. And suddenly, without warning, Sara found herself growing angry. Nick had loved their house for a lot of reasons, but his favorite thing was the fact that even in a town in the middle of the desert, they had a backyard.

"Every kid needs a backyard to run around in, Sara," he'd told her when the real estate agent walked them through the house. Cassie had just been a swelling in her belly, but all he could talk about was how he was going to build her a tree house when she grew up. They'd made a bid the very next day.

He wouldn't ever get to build her that tree house. And Cassie wouldn't remember how she'd taken her first steps towards him across the lawn he'd loved so much. If she remembered anything about the yard, it could very well be having a picnic with Grissom and her grandmother.

It wasn't fair. And even though none of it was really Grissom's fault, Sara couldn't stand there and watch it any longer.

"I'm going to go lie down," she announced, tearing her eyes away from his. "She'll be ready for a nap soon."

Frowning, Laura nodded. "I'll bring her up to you." She paused. "What should I tell him?"

"I don't care." Sara shook her head. "I wish he'd just…stayed in Tennessee." Her chin trembled. "With her."

Laura followed her into the house. "I haven't asked for the details about what happened between the two of you, but there must have been a lot of hurt on both sides. But I don't think you mean what you just said. You still care about him, Sara. And he's still in…"

"You know, I'm grateful that you're here and that you've helped me for the past couple of months. But I stopped needing a mother a long time ago. So can you just quit trying to be one for me?"

Her mother looked down at the glasses in her hands for a long moment. "The only worthwhile thing I've done in my entire life was having you." When she glanced up, her eyes were wet, but determined. "You can't push me away so far that I'll leave you again, Sara."

With that, her mother brushed past her, heading outside to re-join the picnic.

Bile rose in Sara's throat, and she barely made it to the bathroom in time. As she sat on the cold tile floor, tears flowed in steady rivers down her cheeks.

Had it really only been a matter of years since her life was simple? She wouldn't give up Cassie or the new baby for anything, but the longer she sat in the bathroom, the more she wondered…when had everything started to change? Had it been the night she'd fallen into bed with Nick Stokes?

Or many had it been many moons before that…the night she'd woken up in a cold sweat to the realization that she'd fallen in love with Gil Grissom?

There was a knock on the bathroom door. Startled, Sara gasped for breath.

"Sara?" Grissom's voice was cautious and concerned. "Are you all right in there?" When she didn't reply, he added, "Honey…I can hear you crying." There was a long pause. She thought he'd gone away until he spoke again. "I'm not leaving until you come out."

She dried her tears with a washcloth. When she opened the bathroom door, Grissom was standing there, waiting for her.

"Is it the baby?" he asked, his eyes soft with worry. "Are you bleeding again?"

"Why are you here?" Sara spread her hand over her abdomen. "Why are you trying to take his place?"

"Sara…" He was at a loss for words. She well remembered the look that he got when he couldn't find anything to say. "That's not what I'm doing."

"Yes, it is. You were out there playing with Cassie like you're her…"

"Father?" Grissom slipped his hands into his pockets. "Sara. I am."

The two words were a slap across her face. "You don't know that for sure," she whispered. "There's no way to know that for sure without a DNA test. And I won't…"

"I don't need a DNA test. Cassie's blood type is O, like mine."

"That doesn't prove…"

"What was Nick's, Sara?" She looked away. "You don't know?"

"Why would I know that, Grissom?" Sara shouted. "Do you know mine?"

He nodded sadly. "Yes. You're A. Nick was AB." Her face crumpled with the realization of what it all meant. "I'm her father, Sara."

Grissom reached for her, but she jerked away from him. "Nick was her father. Nick loved her. Nick raised her. Nick wanted a backyard for her to run around in…" Her hand tightened into a fist against her newly firm belly. "If this is true…you were halfway across the country, fucking another woman while the cells were splitting to make her."

"You know, I am very tired of having Reese thrown in my face every time you don't want to own up to some truth about our relationship," he snapped back. "Let's not forget that at the same time you claim I was fucking another woman, you were sliding between the sheets with Nick. There is no moral high ground here, Sara, so don't act like you're standing on it."

She stared at him through a film of hot tears. "How long have you wanted to say that to me?"

"I never wanted to say that to you." His Adam's apple bobbed. "I try very hard to not dwell on the fact that I allowed things between us to degenerate to the point where you felt so abandoned…that you turned to another man for comfort." He closed his eyes for a second. "But if it had to be anyone…I'm glad it was him."

Sara bit her lip to steady it. "Why?"

"Because he didn't just love you, Sara. He saw you. And I…" Grissom shook his head. "I only saw what I wanted to see."

After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. "I'm not going to make things even uglier between us by dragging up legalities. I just want to see my daughter. Be a part of her life. Will you let me?"

"Do I have a choice?" she whispered.

"We always have choices. It's just not always immediately clear if we've made the right ones or not."

Sara swallowed. "Who did you choose? Me or her?"

"Do you really want to know?"

She answered by crossing her arms and looking down at the floor. There had been too many revelations, too many shocks to her system in such a short amount of time. She couldn't take another, whether it was receiving confirmation of her worst nightmare…or learning that she'd made the biggest mistake of her life.

"You can see Cassie whenever you want. As soon as we get back." She lifted her chin. "I'm taking her to Texas for a few weeks. I want to tell Bill and Jillian about the baby in person."

To his credit, Grissom didn't protest or try to change her mind. He simply nodded his understanding and left a few minutes later, pausing only to pluck Cassie from Laura's arms. Sara watched him give her a solid kiss on the cheek. Cassie returned it by blowing a wet raspberry against his beard.

It was too late, Sara realized. Even if it had turned out that they didn't share DNA, they were attached to each other.

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I have to give even more props than usual to my beta, PhDelicious, who helped me figure out how to make this chapter better. I also owe big thanks to Sue who also gave it a once-over. And Lisa who could be the coolest reader I've ever had:) Thanks to them all, and thanks to everyone else for all the kind words.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

March 1998

_"I just want to meet a guy who can go five minutes without thinking about sex. Really…is that too much to ask?"_

_Sara's co-worker and drinking buddy for the evening, Corine, somehow managed to swallow a sip of beer and smile at the same time. "We're talking about men, Sar. So…yeah."_

_But Sara wasn't ready to admit defeat yet. She shook her head and sipped her own beer. "No. I still believe they're out there somewhere. I'm not giving up."_

_"Sweetie, if that were true, we wouldn't be sitting in a gay bar right now."_

_Looking around, she had to admit that Corine had a point. Everywhere she looked, she saw men bumping and grinding against other men. It was like being a diabetic in a candy store. "Are there straight bars in this city?" Sara countered._

_Corine laughed. "I don't know. We should probably investigate that." She covered Sara's hand with her own. "Look, I know Rob really hurt you…"_

_"He didn't hurt me." Sara pulled her hand back and tucked it between her knees._

_"Come on. You two dated for, what, seven months? He took to you Tahoe. He asked you what your ring size was. But the whole time, he was getting it on with that skanky bitch in QD?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'd be more than hurt. I'd be catatonic."_

_"He cheated on me."_

_"Yeah. Hence the catatonic state."_

_"No, you're not getting it. He cheated on me. It's done. No moping or agonizing about whether to give him a second chance. That's it. We're over."_

_Corine stared at her. "Just like that?"_

_Sara sipped her beer. "Just like that."_

_"Are you serious, or just deluding yourself to make the pain go away?" Her friend shook her head. "You don't even want an explanation from him?"_

_"I don't want anything from him. Except his god-awful CDs out of my apartment. Phil Collins? That should have been my first clue." Sara paused. "Cheating is non-negotiable."_

_"What if you love the guy?"_

_Sara hesitated. "If you love him…you die a little inside, I guess."_

_"I'll allow you that touch of melodrama, but only under these circumstances."_

_Sara pointed a finger at her. "But what you never, under any circumstances do…is give up your self-respect. You might as well let him slap you across the face if you do." She glanced away. After a second, she looked back. "I knew Rob wasn't 'the one' a long time before last week. It just took that final bit of motivation to get rid of him."_

_They were quiet for a long moment, despite the techno music that blasted them from all sides. Finally, Corine asked, "Ideally, what are you looking for? Because Rob was kind of the whole package. Except for his penchant for slutty lab whores."_

_"I don't know." Sara leaned forward on the edge of the bar. "I guess…someone mature. Intelligent. Good-looking, but it doesn't have to be so entirely conventional. I don't need a chiseled profile and washboard stomach." She smiled softly. "Someone who doesn't mind staying in and renting a movie and just…being together."_

_"So, you want an old, fat couch potato."_

_"No. I want a smart old, fat couch potato."_

_Corine laughed. "Shoot for the stars, sweetie."_

_Sara drained the last of her beer and plopped the bottle down. "Let's get out of here before I decide to become a gay man."_

_They left the bar a few minutes later and emerged into the brisk San Francisco night air._

_"You want to go rent that movie? I know I'm not as attractive as your mythical man, but there are three different flavors of popcorn at my place," Corine offered._

_"Thanks, but I need to get home. You should call it an early night, too. Unless you're bailing on the seminar." At Corine's pained look, Sara protested, "No, no way! Don't you dare!"_

_"Come on, Sara! I've got five open cases. I do not have time to sit and listen to some bug specialist talk about the life cycle of a beetle!"_

_"I think he's supposed to talk about more than that. And it's sort of a requirement. Plus if I have to suffer through a monotonous lecture at eight a.m., so do you." Sara tilted her head to the side. "Suck it up, sweetie."_

_Despite being almost five years older, Corine stuck her tongue out at her. But the next day, all was forgiven, and armed with twin Styrofoam cups of coffee, they sat together and waited for the dreaded seminar to begin._

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Laura hadn't asked to go to Texas, and Sara hadn't invited her, but neither one of them said a word when Laura packed a suitcase and Sara bought two plane tickets.

Cassie was a good flier, Laura was happy to discover, because nothing could make a plane flight worse than a crying child. She clapped her hands when Sara told her they were going to see Gamma and Pop-pop, as if she really had been missing Nick's parents since the funeral.

They arrived in Dallas and were greeted by one of Nick's sisters, Kelly. Although Sara returned the woman's hug, Laura could actually see her daughter stiffen up at the contact. Ever since the plane had touched down, Sara had been unusually quiet. Laura didn't have to think hard to guess why. It was enough that Sara had chosen to wear a bulky sweater that hid the almost-unmistakable bump in her belly.

She knew what was weighing her daughter down. How did you tell your dead husband's parents that there was a possibility that the grandchild they adored wasn't biologically related to them? Did you tell them at all? Laura was just glad those were questions she didn't have to figure out.

During the drive from the airport to the ranch, Kelly kept up a steady stream of chatter, filling her sister-in-law in on all the family news and gossip. Nick's name was never mentioned, but he was there all around them, an invisible force binding together the two women who otherwise had very little in common.

They arrived at the house just before dinner. It seemed to Laura like every single member of the entire extended Stokes clan had shown up for the meal, but she was informed, in a sweet Southern drawl, that it was really more like a handful of cousins. Her presence was not questioned out of sheer politeness, but she couldn't have felt more like an outsider if she'd worn Union blue.

It didn't help matters that as soon as Cassie saw Jillian Stokes, she screamed with pleasure and fought against Laura's arms to try to get to her. Even Sara allowed Nick's mother to hold her just a big longer than necessary when they embraced. Jillian whispered something into her daughter's ear, and Sara smiled for the first time in hours. Laura's stomach twisted; she had to look away.

Judge Stokes led the blessing over their meal. He finished the prayer with a simple request. "Lord, take care of our son until we join him in your kingdom. Amen."

Laura echoed the final word with everyone else gathered around the long table, the only exception being Sara. She was too busy saving Cassie's cup from going over the edge and staining the Berber carpet with apple juice. But there was also a faint shimmer in her eyes.

Despite everything, dinner was a noisy, animated affair. The Stokes still mourned, but they also still lived. Cassie was excessively fawned over, and Sara answered a million questions about her progress. Laura found herself concentrating on her food more than anything else, although she tried to be as courteous as possible whenever she was spoken to. But she kept her responses brief. She had no intention of inadvertently embarrassing her daughter in front of this quintessential example of the American family.

Sara waited until dessert to make her announcement. The news of her pregnancy was greeted with an odd mixture of excitement and shock, peppered with a healthy dose of tears. The surprising part was that some of the tears belonged to Sara herself. At Nick's sisters' bidding, she even adjusted her sweater to display the bulge she'd tried to hide earlier. It was almost like they needed to see it, to be absolutely certain that the time frame was right, and the child really belonged to their beloved brother. And with the one big secret Sara was keeping from them no doubt on her mind, she played along without complaint.

Laura slipped out of the dining room unnoticed and headed to the back porch, desperate for a cigarette. The night sky was incredible out in the Texan countryside, without a big city light for a hundred miles. As she smoked and watched the stars, the fresh wounds to her heart began to close up.

"Do you have another?" Jillian came up beside her. Laura offered her the pack and she extracted one, delicately placing it between her lips before lighting it. She inhaled and exhaled. "Oh, I needed this. Thank you. I quit years ago, but every now and then, the craving overwhelms me."

"I know what you mean."

Laura's cigarette was almost finished before Jillian spoke again. "I feel like you and I should know each other better. You raised the woman my son loved, the mother of my grandchildren." She glanced over at Laura. "Yet I know so little about you."

"I'm sorry to say that what you see is what you get," Laura replied mildly. "And Sara…she's a product of her own successes, not mine."

"Well. We do the best we can before we send them out into the world. I'm just grateful that they found each other." Jillian smiled broadly. "And that we get to be grandmas again."

Laura tried to return the smile, but she was afraid she fell miserably short of the mark. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray that conveniently sat on the porch railing. "I only got to meet your son once," she began. "But he was everything I wanted for my daughter."

Having taken no more than few drags, Jillian watched the cigarette burn down, closer and closer to her fingers. "Thank you." There was an awkward pause. "I wish I could have always said the same thing about Sara."

"What?"

Jillian sighed. "Please don't misunderstand me. I love her now. She'll always be part of my family. But…" She stopped.

"But what?" Laura pressed, a frown crinkling her forehead.

"When Nick told me he was getting married and giving me a grandchild, all I could remember about Sara was something I saw when he was in the hospital." She flicked ash off her cigarette. "Namely her kissing their boss."

Laura blinked several times. "Gil."

"Yes, Gil. I take it you know him?"

The question was posed almost suspiciously. Maybe Nick's mother hadn't started out with the intention to fish for information, but she'd certainly ended up with a reel in her hand. "We've met," Laura replied vaguely.

"He and Sara were obviously close at one time. Are they still?"

"They keep in touch. But no…they're not what I'd call close."

It was as near to the truth as Laura figured she could get and still be safe. Still, there were questions Jillian wasn't asking. The woman had just lost her only son. There wasn't a lot Laura could do to ease her pain, but what she could do, she figured she should. She'd want Jillian to do the same for her if their roles were reversed.

"Sara loved Nick," Laura said. "I'm as sure of it as…" She looked around. "…as I am that there are stars in the sky. Maybe someday…years from now…she'll find love again. But right now, even with taking care of Cassie and preparing for the new baby, she's still grieving for him."

Little white lies never hurt anyone. In fact, they made Jillian Stokes literally breathe a sigh of relief. The two women finished their cigarettes in silence before rejoining the group in the living room where an animated discussion of potential baby names was raging.

It was well after midnight when Laura woke from a restless sleep. She slipped on her robe and padded down the hallway in the dark, convinced that she was the only person in the entire, cavernous house who was awake.

She was wrong. Sara was in the living room with a lone lamp on, providing just enough light for her to see the pages of the photo album she was flipping through. Without a word, Laura joined her.

Sara acknowledged her mother with little more than momentary meeting of their eyes. Laura looked down at the open album on her daughter's lap. A school-age version of her late husband beamed up at them, his hair parted with ruler-straightness. She flipped the page and stopped on a graduation portrait of a teenager with a brilliant smile and a much shaggier 'do. Another graduation photo followed, revealing a grown man with a lively twinkle in his eye, ready to take on the problems of the world.

Sara traced the strong line of his jaw with her finger before slamming the album shut. She pushed it into her mother's hands and fled the room.

"Sara!" she whispered as loudly as she could as she ran after her. Sara knew the house better, however, and soon lost herself in the corners and doorways. Eventually, Laura found her. But she wasn't alone anymore.

The door to one of the guest bathrooms was partially open. Inside, Sara was hunched over the toilet. And Jillian was kneeling beside her, holding Sara's hair away from her face.

"It's okay, sugar," Nick's mother soothed, rubbing Sara's back lightly. "It'll pass. Remember?" Sara nodded tightly; in the moon's light that streamed in from the bathroom window, Laura could see shiny rivers running down her cheeks.

"I miss him," she moaned.

"Me, too." Jillian kissed the side of her daughter-in-law's head. "Every minute of every day."

"He was…everything I wanted. But he wasn't…" Stopping short, Sara clung to the porcelain bowl. "I didn't deserve him."

"Oh, sweetie. He used to say the same thing about you."

Shaking her head, Sara fought back another gag. Jillian was right there to help her through it.

Unable to watch any longer, Laura returned to the guest room on silent feet. Back in bed, she opened the album and settled down to learn everything she could about Nicholas Stokes, the man her daughter had learned to love.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	24. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: To follow the chapter.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

October 2006

_"Why bugs? What made you decide that you had to know everything there is to know about bugs?"_

_While Grissom carefully considered the question, the girl who had asked it waited patiently for an answer. They sat on opposite ends of the plush couch that the penthouse suite in her father's hotel boasted. He wasn't quite sure why she was staying there; something about her apartment being fumigated. He was even less sure why he'd agreed to come up for a drink after the university-sponsored reception._

_But there he was, in a lavish hotel room with a Scotch in his hand and a woman young enough to be his daughter hanging on to his every word._

_"It's very easy for a biologist to find the beauty in complex creatures like animals or…"_

_"Humans?"_

_Grissom continued, "An entomologist has to find beauty where everyone else just sees something that needs to be squashed."_

_Reese laughed at this, tilting her head back and putting her long neck on display. "Well, that's sort of an answer, I suppose." He quickly looked down at the drink in his hand. When he glanced back up, she was watching him. "Then, you consider it a calling? Doing what you do?"_

_"The bugs are a hobby. An avid interest. It's the 'forensic' part of 'forensic entomologist' that's a calling. Of sorts, anyway."_

_"I think it's the noblest job anyone can do."_

_Grissom smiled patiently. "I felt that way twenty-five years ago."_

_Reese tucked her feet up on the couch. "You don't feel that way anymore?" When all he did was sip his drink, she frowned. "I guess twenty-five years of bodies and more bodies…takes its toll. Even on the very strong." She paused. "We hear stories from our professors about how easy it is to burn out. Do you feel like you're heading there?"_

_He shook his head. But he answered, "Maybe."_

_As soon as the words left his mouth, Grissom felt lighter. Lighter and guiltier. Someone else should have heard that long pent-up admission._

_Reese leaned across the empty cushion that separated them. "You've done so much for so many people. Has anyone ever thanked you?" She scooted closer to him on her knees until they were face to face. "Over the past couple of months, your passion and knowledge has helped me realize that this really is what I want to do with my life." Their eyes met. "Thank you."_

_Her lips were fuller than what he was used to. She closed what little distance was left before them, and kissed him slowly, like she was savoring the moment. It was only when she noticed that he wasn't moving that she stopped._

_"Let me guess…" Reese took the glass out of his hand and set it aside. "It's been awhile?"_

_He tried to speak…to stop this…to say something, but she cut him off with another kiss, only this one was hard and hot and went straight to his head like a shot of cheap vodka. "Don't worry." Her mouth ground against his as she unbuckled his belt and stripped it off. "I'll refresh your memory, Doctor."_

_Grissom had never believed in out of body experiences…until he saw himself on the couch with a woman who was even younger than the one he'd denied himself for years. She was kissing him and unzipping his pants, and he was letting her. And if someone had held a gun to his head and asked him why, he couldn't have come up with a single reason._

_Her hair cascaded over them, creating a fragrant curtain around their faces. Her body was curvier, her breasts were fuller. She just felt different. And, god forgive him, he didn't hate it._

_Still, his arms stayed at his sides, neither helping nor hindering her. When Reese slipped to her knees in front of the couch, Grissom closed his eyes. He didn't want to watch the act anymore than he wanted to watch himself not stopping it. Her mouth was hot and wet; she knew what she was doing. But there was something missing._

_If he opened his eyes, he wouldn't see warm brown ones looking up at him for approval._

_It was over soon. And afterwards, he had no desire to pull her into his arms and hold her for the rest of the night. He didn't want to return the favor or take things to the next level. Somehow, if this one thing was all that ever happened between them, he could live with himself. It was ten minutes of abandonment. Ten minutes where he wasn't plagued with the debilitating notion that he wasn't giving enough, wasn't being enough, wasn't making someone happy like he should._

_Fortunately, Reese didn't seem to expect anything more. He probably should have felt badly about that; she was too young to be so disenchanted. But when she silently withdrew to the bathroom, leaving him drained and exposed, he was just glad he didn't have to come up with any conversation._

_With the physical release came exhaustion like he'd rarely known. As he dozed, Grissom dreamed that his phone rang, that Reese answered it._

_He wasn't aware of a single word escaping his lips. "Sara…"_

_The next thing he knew, she was whispering him awake. Reese kissed him and he tasted mint from her toothpaste. But when she tried to climb onto his lap, he grasped her shoulders and held her back, shaking his head slightly._

_"I can't," he told her. "I'm sorry." Gathering all of his strength, he got up and left._

_Back in his own hotel room, Grissom showered. He made the water as hot as he could get it, but it wasn't nearly scalding enough to truly cleanse him. As it pounded the back of his neck, what had just happened with Reese hit him all at once, crippling him with the sheer betrayal of the act. Suddenly, all he could see was the face he loved._

_She would still be up; it wasn't that late in Vegas._

_He tried his house first, hoping she'd decided to spend the night in the sheets she'd helped him pick out only a few weeks after they'd started dating. All he got was his own voice on the answering machine. He tried the next number on his mental list, but her cell phone went straight to voicemail, a short, professional message that instructed him to contact the LVPD if it was a true emergency. Grissom dialed her home phone number last._

Hey, you've reached Sara. There's a distinct possibility that I could be screening, so if you really need to talk to me, make it worth my while to get up and answer.

_The beep caught him off guard. "Sara," he began, woodenly. "It's me." He drew in a ragged breath. "Pick up, honey." He let a few seconds slip by, and with each one, his heart got a little heavier. "I guess you're out. Can you just…can you call me? Please, Sara. I miss you." He swallowed. "I lov…"_

_He was cut off by another beep as Sara's machine ended the call._

_The next day, Reese put on a smile that was just as brilliant as it had been the night before, and Grissom avoided direct eye contact, and they went back to being teacher and student. He left for Vegas two days later, without ever receiving a call from Sara or attempting to make another of his own, hoping it had all just been a bad dream._

_But Puck had said it best. What fools these mortals be._

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Catherine didn't offer to spring for meals very often. So when she called and ordered him to meet her at Little Buddha in the Palms, and informed him that it would be her treat, Grissom resisted his first impulse to turn her down flat, abandoned the frozen dinner he'd been about to pop into the oven, and got dressed to go out.

She arrived first, and had a drink waiting for him. "They call it a Fortune Cookie," she told him over the din of the packed restaurant.

He tasted it and made a face. It was quite probably the most sickly-sweet concoction he'd ever ingested. "What exactly is in this?"

"Rum, Midori, pineapple juice, cream. A man can't live on Scotch alone." Catherine sipped her matching cocktail. "You need to try new things every now and then."

Grissom forced down another mouthful of the cloying liquid. "Well, a diabetic coma will definitely be something new."

Catherine crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her chair to study him. "So. How the hell are you?" Without giving him a chance to answer…or not to answer…she went on. "Things have been kind of quiet lately what with Greg's laryngitis and Sara not being around."

"She's in Texas."

"Visiting Nick's family, I know." She stared at him over the rim of her glass. "And almost as soon as she gets back, she'll be going on maternity leave."

Grissom pushed his drink aside. "Knowing Sara, I'm sure she'll try to work for as long as possible."

"She sure did with Cassie." Catherine clucked her tongue. "I'm hoping she learned her lesson."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look who's all interested in chatting now."

Grissom put an elbow on the table. "What happened with Cassie?"

"I never figured you'd want the details, Gil." When he continued to stare at her, she gave in with a toss of her hair. "She went into labor during an interrogation. One second she was grilling this idiot who'd tried to kill his wife, and the next she's having a baby." Catherine bit back a smile. "Jim was in the room with her. I was watching from outside. It was…chaos. Sara was doubled over and Jim couldn't seem to figure out what was going on. And the suspect was trying to get her to breathe, because he had three kids with the wife he hated, and he knew the drill!"

Grissom looked down at his drink as Catherine went on.

"So, Jim got the guy booked on attempted murder. And I drove Sara to Desert Palm. The whole way there, I'm on the phone trying to track down Nick, who I'd just sent out of town on a 419. When I finally get him, guess where he was? Stuck out in the middle of nowhere with Greg and a flat tire."

She took a breath. "So by this time, the whole labor's just speeding up like crazy. Forget the hours of waiting like most people have to go through the first time. No, Sara had to be freakishly efficient about the whole thing."

"Of course," he murmured.

"It took calling in a few favors, but I got the Highway Patrol to hustle their asses out to Nick and Greg and bring them in. They got to the hospital about forty-five minutes before Cassie arrived. Just in time for Nick to be there with her. Because really…he was the one who deserved to hear her ranting and raving. Not me. I didn't knock her up." Catherine took a smooth sip. "So, this time, she's going on maternity leave well before her due date. If I have anything to say about it, that is."

Grissom's only response was to pluck the fortune cookie from the rim of his glass and lay it beside his plate.

"I wonder who she'll rant and rave to with this one," Catherine mused. "Maybe her mother."

Again, he said nothing.

"Gil, I love the sound of my voice, but feel free to break in anytime." More silence. "Hello?" She snapped her fingers. "Hey…bug boy!" Finally, he looked up with haunted eyes. It only took a moment of looking into them before Catherine put a hand to her throat. "You've never gotten over her, have you?" Grissom looked away. "Oh, Gil. I'm sorry."

"Can I hear that again?" he tried to joke.

When he glanced back, her face was a mask of compassionate worry. "I know what it's like to watch a fantasy die. To realize you didn't take your chance when you had it. I'm probably the only one who understood why you left when you did. It can't be any easier for you now, having history repeat itself. Even if you don't have to watch them together this time."

Grissom cleared his throat. "So, you weren't in the room when Cassie was born?"

Catherine frowned. "Um...no. That would have been weird." She paused. "Why are we back on Cassie?"

"I just…I'm curious. It's a big part of, you know, Sara's life. And I thought…" He grabbed his glass took a few big gulps, instantly regretting it when the drink coated his throat. He coughed. "I thought I should know something about it."

"Really." She folded her arms. "Well, why haven't you asked her?"

"She's in Texas," he repeated.

"Right. The land time forgot. No chance of phone reception there."

Grissom shot her a look. "Just humor me, Cath. I don't ask a lot. Tell me whatever else you can remember about that day."

She stared at him with the observant eyes of an investigator. When she started talking, her words were slow and deliberate as she gauged his reaction to them. "She was born around lunchtime. I remember because Greg was about to go to the cafeteria to get some sandwiches when Nick came out to tell us it was a girl. I doubt he smiled that big even when the Cowboys won the Superbowl."

As she talked, Grissom's gaze glassed over. Her narrative wasn't enough to paint the entire picture; she just gave him teasing pieces that he had to assemble as best he could.

"We went in a little while later after they got her cleaned up. Sara was exhausted, but she wouldn't even try to sleep. She couldn't stop looking at Cassie." Catherine smiled softly. "Even all squished up from the delivery, she was a beautiful baby. I wish her eyes had stayed the color they were that day. I've never seen a darker blue. She had this one lock of hair on her head, already curled. I remember Sara just kept touching it." She laughed. "And talk about a daddy's girl. She wrapped her fingers around Nick's pinkie, and that was it. She had him."

His hand curled about his fortune cookie, and with a crunch, it crumbled in his fist.

"Cassandra was the only name they ever agreed on," Catherine said, her eyes going back and forth from his hand to his face. "Too much of a mouthful for such a little girl. So she immediately became Cassie." She stopped. "And that's it."

Grissom relaxed his palm, dropping the cookie crumbs and the fortune onto the tablecloth. "Thank you."

Catherine lifted her drink to her lips, but before she could sip, she blinked and set it back down. "You're keeping your hair very short these days."

He shifted in his seat. "Not anymore so than usual."

"Yeah, you are. I can't see any of those…" She stopped short. "…curls."

Their eyes met over the table, and the noise of the restaurant, the happy chatter of its patrons, the Asian-flavored music, dropped away. Grissom shook his head just enough for her to see the movement, wordlessly pleading with her.

Their waitress came by just then, but neither one of them had any real appetite any longer. Catherine ordered some duck gyoza and sent the girl on her way.

Silence enveloped them again, until she pointed at the little piece of paper that had revealed itself after he decimated his cookie. "What does it say?"

Grissom opened it up with clumsy fingers. He read it first, and his sudden bark of laughter startled Catherine. He handed it to her.

"You learn something new every day."

Their waitress arrived with their order and found the table as quiet as it had been five minutes earlier. She set the plate down and left.

The delicious scent knocked Catherine out of her shock. "I feel like I should have figured this out a long time ago. The curls…and her eyes before they changed. That little notch in her chin." She hesitated. "When did you know?"

Grissom stared at the steaming dumplings. "Too late."

She shook her head slightly, trying to make sense of it all. "Was it a one-time thing? Did she cheat on Nick?"

"No. It was my fault, Cath." The raw emotion in his voice surprised him. "I ruined everything. I ruined us." Moisture gathered in the creases of his eyes. "Or what was left of us."

She didn't force him to elaborate. After a minute had passed, Catherine took the cookie from her own glass and handed it to him. He looked up at her, puzzled. "Take it. You need all the help you can get."

Grissom broke the cookie in half and unfolded the strip of paper.

_You are just beginning to live._

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued

A/N: First of all, Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans. Everyone else, Happy Fourth Thursday in November. I'm sorry to have given you such an intense chapter on a holiday, but my reasoning was two-fold. One: I literally could not keep from fiddling with this chapter, and I was driving my beta, PhDelicious, insane with all the different versions I dumped into her mailbox. If I didn't post soon, she was going to start plotting my slow demise. And she's really smart; she could make it last for days. Two: I was hoping that most people would read this after stuffing themselves with turkey and dressing, and therefore be too sleepy and/or weighed down to come after me. Because I know what was revealed in this chapter is a little upsetting. But this is the story as I've been envisioning it all along. I hope I haven't turned anyone away, and that you'll come back next time. I really appreciate everyone's continued interest, enthusiasm, and constructive criticism.

Now go eat pie. Lots and lots of pie. There is nothing that cannot be made better by the addition of pie.


	25. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Extra special shout-out to my beta who rocks. And everyone reading, thanks for hanging in for 25 chapters!

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

October 2006

_"Hey."_

_Sara turned her head and looked at the man lying next to her. "Hey."_

_After a moment passed without another word, Nick lightly cleared his throat. "Did you sleep all right?"_

_"I don't know," she replied quietly. "Did you?"_

_He shifted uncomfortably. "Not really. It's not exactly…um…dry over here."_

_Mortified, Sara closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."_

_"Hey, it's not your fault. Takes two, right?" Nick sat up and scratched his rib cage. Sara watched the well-defined muscles of his upper back shift with each movement. Another moment slipped by. "Is it okay if I take a shower?" he suddenly asked._

_It was funny. She always figured Nick would be into morning cuddling. He just seemed like the type who would want to linger in bed as long as possible. Of course, she'd always thought Grissom would want out of an intimate situation as quickly and neatly as possible. And every time he'd pulled her into his arms and refused to let her go, she'd been freshly surprised._

_Even just that small memory made her chest ache._

_"Yeah." She looked up at the ceiling. "Towels are in the cabinet."_

_When he was gone, Sara rolled over onto her side and touched indentation in the other pillow that Nick's head had made during the night. The sheets smelled faintly of his cologne, her shampoo, their sex. She closed her eyes, and she could still feel his hands on her body, his weight on top of her._

_Her orgasm had surprised her; his had shocked them both. In the heat of the moment, neither one of them had remembered a condom. Through unspoken agreement, they'd fallen asleep without discussing it._

_Now, as she felt the stickiness between her thighs, she found she couldn't breathe._

_Up until then, Grissom was the only man she'd ever let get that close to her. Even with him it had only happened a handful of times, the last one being the night before he left. She'd wanted him to be able to touch her without a latex barrier between them._

_But now Nick had touched her the same way. Not only had she had unprotected sex, she'd had it with another man. She'd given him something she'd only ever wanted to give to Grissom._

_Sara threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. She stripped the damp sheets and dumped them into the laundry basket. After pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top, she ventured into the kitchen._

_The pipes in her apartment were old; she could hear the shower running. As long as Nick was in there, they could avoid another awkward encounter. And maybe she could figure out what the hell she was supposed to say to him now._

_She took a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge and poured herself a glass. Only after downing half of it did the fuzziness in her mouth start to clear away._

_Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a red, blinking light on her answering machine, indicating that she had message waiting for her. With a frown, Sara reached out and pressed the play button._

_"You have one new message," the machine informed her. "Today at twelve oh-two a.m." There was a beep. Then…his voice. "Sara. It's me. Pick up, honey."_

_The squeaking from the pipes abruptly shut off. Without thinking, she hit a button on the machine to pause the message._

_She was just in time. Nick came out into the kitchen with one of her fluffy green towels secured around his toned waist. He was mostly dry, but a few drops of water still dappled his skin._

_"I think we should talk."_

_Sara held up the pitcher. "Juice?"_

_"No, thanks." He paused. "Sara, I wish I knew what to say to make this less…awkward. Usually it's just a matter of time." His eyes slipped down. "But maybe we don't have the luxury of time."_

_"I don't know," she answered truthfully._

_Nick clutched the towel to keep it up. "Whatever you decide…if it even becomes a question…I'm there for you." He smiled. "It wasn't the beer talking last night. I care about you. More than I probably should."_

_Unable to process that just yet, she crossed her arms over her stomach. "I need a shower, too," she announced._

_"Okay." Nick moved to let her past him. "Sara…_

_She paused at the bathroom door and looked back at him. "I just want you to know…I don't do this with people I don't care about. It's sort of a life-policy."_

_He walked to her and stopped close enough to set her nerves on edge. "I'm really glad to hear that."_

_Nick jerked forward at the same time as she did, but his lips missed their mark and landed on her cheek. For the briefest of seconds, Sara wanted to lean into the solid warmth of his body and forget about everything else. He smelled so wonderfully clean. Pure._

_But they pulled back at the same time. Nick gave her a sad, strange smile before starting into the bedroom to dress._

_When she emerged from the shower, he was long gone. With a small sigh, Sara padded into the kitchen and sat down at the counter. It took a second before she worked up the courage to reach out and start the answering machine again._

_"I guess you're out. Can you just…can you call me? Please, Sara. I miss you. I lov…" There was a beep, then nothing._

_She picked up the phone to dial, but at the last second slammed it back down. What would they talk about? Whatever he hadn't killed by sleeping at Reese's, she'd effectively finished off by waking up beside Nick._

_All that was left to do was to make it official. And she did so later that day when she drove to his townhouse and started packing up her things. She left the key in his mailbox and refused to let herself look back._

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Grissom met them at the airport. After the flight, she was too exhausted to be angry at Laura for calling him for a ride. Cassie, usually a good traveler, had screamed her way from Dallas to Vegas when Sara discovered that her favorite toy had been left behind at the ranch.

She spotted him in the crowd of people waiting just beyond the security check point. It wasn't hard to pick him out. He was the guy carrying the obscenely pink cloth bunny.

Up until then, Cassie had been a holy terror. But when she spotted Grissom, or more specifically what he was holding out to her, she was all smiles and sweetness again.

"Where were you three hours ago?" Laura laughed. "You would have been the hero of Flight 5639."

Grissom smiled as Cassie hugged the bunny with her chubby arms. "Can I hold her?" he asked Sara.

The little girl went to him eagerly. "Bun-bun!" she christened her new toy.

Sara's arms felt empty; she folded them over her stomach. In the three weeks they'd spent in Texas, her belly had taken on a very definite roundness. Suddenly she was self-conscious of it. "Thanks for coming to get us."

"You're welcome." He gently jostled Cassie, making her laugh. "How was your trip?"

Laura answered when Sara didn't. "People who used to think the world was flat must have lived in Texas." She paused when her joke failed to register with either of them. They were both too busy watching Cassie…while trying not to watch each other. She shook her head. "I need a cigarette. Sara?" When she got her daughter's attention, she pointed to the exit. "See you at baggage claim."

Grissom was the first to speak after Laura left. "She's gotten bigger. Cassie. Not your mother."

At this, the corners of Sara's lips grudgingly turned up. "Yeah." She reached out and rubbed her thumb over the little girl's soft cheek. "She's also turning into a rampant consumer, thank you very much."

"It was a last minute gift shop purchase," he explained. "I missed her."

His softly-spoken admission made her queasy. "Gris…" She was cut off by someone bumping into her shoulder, reminding them that they were standing in the middle of a crowd of people.

"I take it you checked her stroller?" Grissom asked. "Let's go get it."

Sara reached for Cassie, but the little girl clung to the man who'd given her Bun-bun. "No," she told her mother. "I here!"

To his credit, Grissom looked apologetic. "I didn't set out with the intention of buying her affection, Sara."

"It's okay. She's nineteen months old. Wave something shiny in front of her, and you become her new best friend." She started walking and he followed. "I had a lot of time to think in Texas. About the new baby and Nick and…" Sara glanced at him. "You."

He wisely kept his mouth shut and waited for her to go on. They walked a little bit further before Sara did. "You're going to be a part of Cassie's life. Which means you're going to be a part of mine. She's our link."

Grissom leaned his head back to avoid having his beard mercilessly gripped by Cassie's tiny fingers. "Yes."

"The more time she spends with you, the deeper her attachment will get."

He nodded. "I can only hope so."

"And the older she gets, the more explanations she'll want about everything. And I don't know about you, but I wouldn't have any idea how to explain our relationship to my daughter." Sara paused. "Our daughter."

"Our daughter," he echoed.

She cleared her throat, shaking off the moment. "I don't want to spend Cassie's formative years fighting with you whenever old issues come up. Because they're going to come up. It's inevitable."

"What are you saying, Sara?"

She looked around for a second. "Can we find somewhere to sit down? She's probably getting heavy."

They chose an empty bench across from one of the coffee shops that lined the terminal. Sara went inside and came back with two steaming cups: strong brew for him, green tea for her. She pulled a cookie out of the emergency stash in her bag and handed it to Cassie, who seemed content to sit on Grissom's lap, gnawing on it.

Warming her hands around her cup, Sara sat back to take in the little scene taking place beside her. "I didn't tell Nick's parents about you and Cassie," she said out of the blue a moment later.

His forehead crinkled with what she recognized as hurt. "I know it's not the easiest conversation to have, but…"

"I can't do it," she cut him off. "They adore her. She is a part of Nick to them." She touched her stomach. "Just like this one will be. They've lost so much…I can't take her away from them, too. And I know this has the potential to blow up in my face, but I'll just have to cross that bridge when I reach it." Sara hesitated. "I'm sorry."

Grissom's only response was to take a sip of coffee. Instantly, his face screwed up in pain.

"Careful! It's hot!" On instinct, Sara set her cup aside and put a soothing hand to his cheek, letting her thumb rest on his lips. "You always do that."

He jerked back. "Don't do that."

"I…I'm sorry."

"And stop saying that you're sorry. You haven't done anything wrong."

A minute passed. It was too much silence for Cassie. She scowled at her mother. "Mama pwetty." It was a new word she'd learned in Texas, but it wasn't an observation. In Cassie-speak, it was a command for her mother to make herself pretty by smiling.

Sara did just that, but the expression didn't ring true. "Okay, baby. Now you pretty."

With a mouthful of cookie, her daughter beamed. "I pwetty." She looked up at the man on whose lap she sat. "Pwetty!"

At first, Sara was worried that he wouldn't be able to. But his face eventually relaxed; Cassie commanded, and he obeyed.

It just wasn't fair that his smile still did strange things to her body.

Unfortunately, the distraction was only temporary. Grissom cleared his throat a second later and picked up where they'd left off. "Thank you for being honest with me."

"Even if I couldn't be honest with Bill and Jillian?"

"I didn't say that, Sara."

"No. I did." She pulled out a second cookie from her bag and gave it to Cassie. "I told you I spent a lot of time thinking. I want Cassie to grow up with a father. I won't let her forget about Nick…but you're who she's going to call 'Daddy.' But for right now…this needs to be our secret." Sara glanced at him. "We should be used to it, right? Keeping things between us a secret from everyone else."

"I probably deserve that." Grissom paused, as if collecting his thoughts. "You're not the only one who's had a lot of free time to think, Sara." He looked down at the little girl. "She's my flesh and blood. And you're my…"

She cut him off. "I can't be your anything right now."

"Because of Nick."

"Yes. But also because…" Sara's chin trembled ever so slightly. "I was your something. And you were mine. And we lost that. I don't know if we can ever get it back."

"I think we could, Sara." She could feel him staring at her profile. "If we tried."

She turned her head and their eyes met. He was so close that Sara imagined she could feel his heart pounding. Or maybe that was just her own. His lips were parted slightly, and suddenly her own ached for the familiar tickle of his beard. She closed her eyes and leaned in. Between them, Cassie squirmed in protest, but neither one of them noticed.

Sara wasn't sure if this would be a step backwards or forwards, but right then, with his warm mouth about to touch hers, it just didn't seem to matter.

"There you guys are!" Laura's voice ripped the moment away from them. They pulled back simultaneously. Sara looked up at the high ceiling, and Grissom turned his attention Cassie who was just happy not to be squashed between them anymore.

Out of breath and smelling like smoke, Laura sank into the empty stretch of bench on Sara's other side. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yeah." Sara rose to her feet. "I should get Cassie cleaned up before we get in your car." She stopped. "Oh hell. Car seat. You don't have one."

"Yes, I do." He offered no explanation as he stood up. Cookie crumbs covered his pants and Cassie's face and hands. "We could both stand some cleaning. Come on, Cassie."

She waved to her mother over Grissom's shoulder as he walked off in search of a washroom. "Bye-bye!"

When they disappeared into the crowd, Laura glanced at her daughter. "I interrupted something, didn't I?"

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	26. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thank you so much, everyone. I assume that if you're still here at Chapter 26, you must find something enjoyable about this story. Because if you're not enjoying it, why would you still be reading it? Much appreciation to my beta, PhDelicious, and my friends who keep me hanging on when I'm down to my last thread of sanity.

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

December 2006

_"What is it?"_

_Sara turned the box around in her hands, examining it from all sides with great suspicion. The longer she took, the heavier Grissom's heart became._

_"It's just a little something." He paused. "I wanted you to have it. Tomorrow's Christmas."_

_"I know what tomorrow is."_

_The chill in her tone still shocked him, even after two months. He wondered if he'd ever get used to it. Would a time ever come when the fact that Sara was no longer a part of his life outside of work would no longer hurt?_

_But deep down, he knew the answer already. No. It wouldn't. The only way for him to be anything close to complete again would be to have her back. Not just in his bed, although he ached for her every night. He wanted her soy milk in his fridge. He wanted her myriad of lotions littering his bathroom counter. He wanted to set two places for breakfast. He wanted tampons and curling irons and feminist literature and sandals next to his loafers._

_All of the things he'd taken for granted._

_"Open it," he asked her softly. "Please."_

_With obvious reluctance, Sara yanked at the velvet ribbon, unraveling the bow it had taken him twenty minutes to tie. She lifted the lid and stared into the box._

_When she finally looked up at him, her eyes burned. She lifted the single key and held it out to him. "I gave it back to you for a reason."_

_Suddenly, he felt like a rock was sitting at the base of his throat. "It's yours, Sara. I had it made for you."_

_"I don't want it anymore."_

_Grissom didn't ask why. He already knew. He'd asked the question before, the day he arrived back from his final trip to New Orleans. It had taken thirty straight minutes of continuous dialing before she'd finally answered her cell. The sum of their conversation had been simple._

_They were over. And when pressed, the only reason she'd given him was equally straightforward._

I slept with Nick while you were gone.

_Sara reached out and took his hand. He looked down just in time to see her place the key on his palm and close up his fingers around it._

_"Whatever we had…" she began, looking straight at him. "…is gone now."_

_"I don't accept that," he said hoarsely._

_Sara shook her head and backed up a step. "It's not up to you. It is what it is."_

_Grissom couldn't keep his hand from shooting out and grasping her wrist. The key clattered on the floor. "Sara…" He swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue before they could get out._

_How could he tell her that he couldn't hold what had happened with Nick against her, because he hadn't exactly been faithful himself? And how could he tell her that they could fix things when he wasn't even sure what was broken or how it had gotten that way?_

_But he had to try. He had to say something before she walked away again. He couldn't let another two months go by before he got to touch her again._

_"Tell me what to do, honey," he whispered._

_"There isn't anything…" She stopped. "I can't do this…not now." Sara's eyes pleaded with him. "Leave me alone, Grissom."_

_Another moment passed before he relaxed his grip and she pulled away. Her eyes shone with a film of tears. With one hand on her stomach and the other covering her mouth, she bolted out of his office._

_After retrieving the key, Grissom reverently placed it in his desk drawer with his mother's rosary._

_He spent the next hour working before finally deciding to call it a night. It was almost Christmas, and as far as he knew, now that Sara was gone, the lab was all but deserted. There was a team on call, but the various techs were off until noon the next day._

_It was a cold night; he could see his breath as he walked across the parking lot to his car. When he found the right key on his set, Grissom glanced up and caught sight of two figures a few dozen yards away._

_There was enough illumination from the moon and a parking lot floodlight for him to instantly identify them as Nick and Sara, but not enough for him to read their lips. Sara was visibly upset, shaking her head. Grissom watched as Nick cupped her face between his hands, leaned in and gave her a light kiss._

_Burning heat spread throughout his body. His blood boiled, red-hot and acidic. He was assaulted with jealousy, pain, and the crazy desire to punch a man he'd never so much as wished a mosquito bite upon before._

_Grissom wanted to look away when Nick embraced the woman he loved, but he was paralyzed by the scene in front of him. She let him fold his arms around her. She even put her cheek on his shoulder. Her eyes closed, and for a few seconds, she looked calm. Peaceful._

_It was a look he hadn't seen on her face in a very long time. Much longer than he cared to admit._

_Halfway home, Grissom had to pull over. The angry fire in his chest had died out; in its place, cold misery poured over his heart. He put the car in park and forced himself to breathe in and out. But each lungful of air was accompanied by a ragged sob._

_Hunched over the steering wheel, he mourned for what he now knew he'd lost forever._

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Completely against his will, Catherine threw Grissom a birthday/belated homecoming party. She invited all of his friends…and then padded the meager guest list with her own. Laura figured that was how she'd ended up with an invitation to the soiree. Although she wouldn't have minded staying home with Cassie, it was nice to get dressed up and go out, even if the party was just at Catherine's house.

Sara spent three days trying to come up with excuses to get out of going. But when Laura shot down each one with great accuracy and precision, she finally caved and started looking for an outfit that would minimize her stomach as much as possible. It proved to be too great a task; she ended up in a black wrap-around dress that tastefully displayed her rounding belly.

Along with her expanding waistline, Sara's spirits seemed to lift as her pregnancy progressed. But Laura suspected that her improved state of mind had more to do with the fact that a certain older man was now an almost daily fixture at the house.

The night of his party, Grissom arrived to pick them up just as Sara was finishing her list of instructions to Cassie's babysitter, Caitlin, the teenaged daughter of a family who lived down the street. As soon as Cassie spotted Grissom, she held out her arms to him.

Grissom took her, kissed both of her cheeks, and after putting her down so she could scamper off to play, gave Sara a pleading look.

"No," she said, fastening an earring. "You can't stay here instead of going to the party."

"But…" he began.

"No," Sara repeated. "Catherine put a lot of time and energy into this thing, and she did it all for you."

His face pulled into something akin to a grumpy pout. "I didn't ask her to."

"That's what friends are for."

"To throw parties that we didn't ask for and don't want?"

Sara reached for her handbag. "You'll feel differently once we're there."

"I doubt it."

Caitlin looked at Laura. "My mom and dad fight just like them."

Laura would have smiled if the whole conversation between her daughter and Gil hadn't been laced with something heavier than simple banter. There was something simmering between them. And she couldn't help it. Her mother's instincts were concerned.

The drive to Catherine's was quiet. The party, however, was anything but. Laura wasn't sure she'd had as many friends in her entire life as the number of Catherine's who had shown up to celebrate the birth of a man most of them had never met.

Armed with a martini, although she didn't really like them, Laura searched the crowd for a familiar face. She found Greg Sanders.

"Mrs. Sidle," he greeted her with a slightly loopy grin. "Haven't seen you around the lab lately."

"I like to pretend that my daughter works with bunnies all day," she said. Searching for a conversation starter, she looked around the living room. "It's a nice place. I didn't realize the crime lab paid so well."

"Catherine's, shall we say, independently wealthy by fluke of birth." Greg raised his beer. "Three cheers for inheritances."

Laura nodded. "Yeah." A few moments passed. "Greg, can I ask you something?"

"Anything you want."

She took her time, phrasing the question just right. "Has Gil always been in love with my daughter?"

After a second staring blankly at her, Greg took a sip of his beer. "For a long time…I thought he didn't even really like her."

Her skin prickled. "Why?"

"When Sara first got here, everyone pretty much assumed she and Grissom were doing it," Greg eventually replied. "There were, like, hundreds of applications he could have picked from…but instead he calls up a 'friend' and gives her a plumb job just like that?" He shrugged. "'Course, Sara proved herself worthy of the job by about week two."

"That's my Sara," she whispered. "So, I don't get it. Why would you think he didn't care for her after all of that?"

"It's hard to explain. Grissom's got this way of making you feel…small. And I'm not even sure he realizes he does it. But he can be pretty mean sometimes. If he's not just ignoring you altogether."

"He did that to Sara?"

Greg nodded. "On and off for a few years. I almost asked her out back then. But I'm kinda glad I didn't. Grissom loved her…Nick loved her. No room for Greg."

"Then how do you know?" Laura clarified, "That Gil loved her?"

"We've all kinda had to learn how to speak Grissomese. Once you do, it's not hard to translate that him ignoring something means he can't deal with it which means he can't stop thinking about it. Besides...why wouldn't he? She's…" He swallowed. "She's one in a million."

"I'm sorry," she offered.

Greg smiled as widely as possible. "It's cool. Probably wouldn't have worked even if those two weren't in the picture. She might be too much woman for me." He looked at his bottle. "This is really good beer."

Laura gave him a soft pat on the cheek. "I realize that we barely know each other, but you're a good man, Greg Sanders. Your mother must be very proud of you."

His smile faltered. "Yeah. Sure."

She looked down at her glass. "I really don't like gin." Looking back up, Laura asked, "Can I get you another?"

Greg shook his head. "Better not. I've already told you that I had the hots for your daughter. Might be quittin' time for me."

Laura headed off, shaking her head in amusement. But as she recalled the information he'd just shared, the nagging voice of concern in the back of her mind started up again. Gil Grissom was slowly making himself a central part of both her daughter and her granddaughter's lives. He was going after his second chance. But was he deserving of it in the first place?

He had hurt Sara once. Ignored her, then broken her heart. Was history doomed to repeat itself?

She'd stood by in Sara's youth, powerless to stop her own abuse, much less the emotional toll her daughter had paid by having to watch it. If she could do something to keep Sara from getting hurt again, she would.

She left her martini at the makeshift bar, but didn't order a new drink. Instead, she went off in search of Sara. With a little help from the party's hostess who pointed her towards the stairs, she found her. Sara, Catherine told her, had been feeling a little overwhelmed in the crowd and had gone upstairs for a breather.

The master bedroom door was ajar; she peeked inside, careful to be as quiet as possible in case Sara had fallen asleep. She did that a lot lately.

The last thing she expected to see was Sara and Gil kissing like the world might end if they stopped. As much as she wanted to barge in and stop it, she just couldn't. Because after months of merely walking through her life, her daughter was alive again.

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	27. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Double shot of thanks to my beta, PhDelicious. And a whole round of thanks to everyone out there still reading!

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

January 2007

_"Wow."_

_"You can say that again."_

_"Wo…"_

_Sara clamped her hand over Nick's mouth just in time. "You are the only person I know who actually does that."_

_When she released him, he was smiling with great satisfaction. "Then don't ask me to." Rolling onto his side, he shook his head. "I've heard my sisters talking about pregnancy hormones for years, but damn. I had no idea how much fun their idiot husbands were having all this time."_

_"Are you saying that if you'd known, you would have run out and gotten a woman pregnant sooner?"_

_"I'm saying maybe I wouldn't have been such a good Boy Scout all the time."_

_Sara bit back a smile for as long as she could. The fact was, she was feeling too deliciously sated herself, and it was impossible to hide it for long. When she'd invited Nick over to talk about the amniocentesis she was schedule to undergo, she had no idea that they'd end up back in bed. But he had smelled so good. And she was a veritable rollercoaster of crazy thoughts and emotions and cravings._

_And so it had just sort of happened. Again._

_"I was thinking about names the other day," Nick said suddenly. "Any thoughts?"_

_Sara let one hand drift down to her bare belly, still flat as a board when she was lying on her back. "Yes. I think it should have one." She turned her head to look at him. His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Beyond that, I have no idea."_

_"We should start making a list." He sat up. "Right now."_

_"Hey." She pushed herself up on her elbows. "There's still plenty of time." But he swung his legs out of the bed and stood up. "Where are you going?"_

_"To find a pen and some paper." Nick tugged his boxers on. "It's a big decision; we shouldn't leave it to the last minute."_

_Sara gathered the sheet around her body and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Nick," she began. "I love that you want to be a part of this. But there's something you should know before you get too…invested." She took a breath. "I…"_

_"Sara." He gently shook his head. "Whatever it is, it doesn't really matter to me."_

_"But I…"_

_Nick cut her off again. "Look, after that night…I was kinda…well…lost, I guess. I felt like I'd been allowed to touch something amazing…but I had to let it go in the morning. Even though I really didn't want to. That's not my style, you know? But I really tried to be casual, because I knew that us going from friends to lovers overnight could get really ugly."_

_She looked down at her hands, waiting for him to go on._

_"I tried, Sara. But then you came to me with this…" He gestured to general area of her stomach. "And I figured…that one night didn't have to be it for us. We could have more. Be more."_

_Sara glanced up just in time to see him walk over and crouch down, putting them at eye level._

_"Call it a male macho thing, or some kind of Southern chivalry or whatever," Nick said with a smile. "But I wanna be with the woman who's having my baby. For me, that means rings and vows…all of it. I do, until death." He reached out and threaded his fingers through hers. "You don't have to give me an official answer until I give you a ring. But will you think about it in the meantime?" His eyebrow lifted. "Really think about it?'_

_All she could do was nod. His proposal had numbed most of her body. Nick kissed her knuckles and stood up, resuming his search for list-making supplies._

_Sara watched him rifle through her nightstand. For some reason, it wasn't annoying her. She didn't mind that his pants were slung over her headboard, or that his socks were inside-out on her floor. And she certainly hadn't minded being in his arms. Not only were they very nice arms, he hadn't pulled away this time. He'd held on._

_Maybe she'd already made this choice. Nick was the one she'd gone to when the strip had turned pink on Christmas Eve. And he was the one she was going to invite to her amnio. He would be a good husband. A wonderful father. And she loved him. Maybe it didn't consume her, mind, body and soul, but the feelings were real. Why shouldn't she act on them?_

_Why shouldn't she grab what could be her last chance for happiness?_

_"Yes." The word echoed off the walls. Nick stopped his search and looked at her. "Yes," she repeated. "I'll marry you."_

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Maybe he'd never know what had happened to Sara in Texas, but whatever it was, whatever revelation she'd experienced there, it had changed everything.

Visits to the house to see Cassie had turned into dinners, followed by long conversations on the patio while Laura put their daughter to bed. Coffee breaks had morphed into post-shift breakfasts. He recognized the signs of dating, but this was more than just courtship. It was rediscovery. Rebirth.

And it had all led up to the night of his birthday party, two weeks earlier, when he'd gone upstairs to check on her and wound up finding everything he thought he'd lost. He couldn't explain it any better now than he'd been able to on that night, but something had just sparked between them. Suddenly talking without touching, looking without tasting, wanting without having had become unbearable. And they'd just stopped fighting what came all too naturally.

From there, it was like slipping back into a beloved habit. So when they found themselves alone at Grissom's apartment one night, neither one of them initiated what came next. But there were no attempts on either side to slow down, be patient, or stave off the inevitable.

He wasn't going to try to apply common sense or logic to making love with Sara, because there was nothing common or logical about it. There was just a need that had never faded, and the undeniable truth that being with Sara again meant he had finally found his way home.

"Are you still here with me?" Sara whispered. He felt her cool hand touch his arm, searching for him in the dark.

"I'm here, honey." Grissom reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on to the lowest setting, flooding the room with soft light. Immediately, Sara pulled the covers up around her protruding belly. "Hey," he gently admonished her. "What are you doing?"

"I…don't know." She looked at him. "This doesn't make you uncomfortable?" He frowned until she clarified, "Me being pregnant. You…not being the father."

He took the edge of the sheet out of her hands, and lowered it. So much about her body was different now. Her lean angles had given way to softer curves. He could no longer hold her whole breast in his hand; she was fuller there and, as he discovered, infinitely tender. He had been so afraid to touch her at first, terrified of hurting her or the baby. But with some patience and guidance and experimentation, they'd found a way to love. And now, flushed with the memory of pleasure, she was ripe and breathtaking.

Grissom swallowed heavily. "I wish I could have seen you like this with Cassie."

Sara's face clouded over. "I knew this would bother you. That's why I didn't feel like putting myself on display for…" Grissom stopped her with a kiss, but she broke away. She touched her lips for a long moment before speaking again. "What would have happened back then if I'd gone to you with my pregnancy test instead of Nick?"

"You know what would have happened, Sara. I wanted you back in my life." He trailed his fingers over the curve of her belly. "I still want you back in my life."

A shiver ran through her body when his touch moved further down. "You don't consider this being back in your life?" she asked, a bit breathless.

"Not completely." His mouth met hers in a long, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, he pushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. "Marry me."

Her reply was small and quiet. "No."

Grissom's arm corded as he pushed himself up and turned away from her. Struggling to sit up as well, Sara put her hands on his upper back. "Listen. And really hear what I'm going to say. I need you to hear me."

He turned his head just enough to indicate for her to go on. Two years earlier, he would have let her talk, but he wouldn't have listened.

"We're not fixed yet," she said. "Sex doesn't automatically fix things. If it did, we never would have broken." She shifted closer to him and he could feel the warmth of her stomach against his back. "We took a big step tonight, but it's not anywhere near the last one we'll have to take." Her lips pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Grissom turned back around the rest of the way, and they faced each other. "I love you, Sara. I always have. I should have told you years ago." He cursed under his breath. "I should have…camped out on your doorstep until you forgave me."

"It would have been a mistake." The look he gave her prompted her to go on. "We needed to be apart back then."

"Why?"

Sara shook her head. "Please don't make me say her name here."

"It's the one thing we still haven't talked about. Maybe it's time." But he knew that if that was true, his stomach wouldn't be churning like it was.

"No. It won't ever be time, Gil. I don't want to know. If I was right or wrong…if you did or didn't…I can't know. Knowing would make everything different." Sara let out a breath she'd been holding in. "Just tell me you never loved her."

He didn't even have to think about it. "I never loved her."

There was a long pause. "I loved Nick."

Grissom inclined his head, and told himself to keep breathing. "I know."

"Why did we do this to each other, Gil?" Sara whispered.

She was asking him a question he'd never been able to answer. "That I don't know."

"We need to figure it out. Right? Before we…" She winced and put a hand to her stomach. "He's kicking," she explained. "Really hard."

"Did Cassie?"

Sara smiled. "She was a little lady. When she did kick…" She bit her lip. "It, um, didn't happen often."

"What were you going to say?" Grissom asked, fairly certain that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"When she did kick, Nick would…" She sighed. "He would kiss my stomach and she'd stop, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

He had no real answer to that except to slide further down the bed. Ignoring her as she repeatedly asked him what he was doing, Grissom placed a hand on either side of her belly and planted a kiss just below her navel. He looked up, expecting to see relief on her face. But all he saw was her flinch again as the baby kept kicking.

Disappointment flooded him, until she touched his cheek, caressing him with her thumb. "It was a nice thought."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it work."

"No, I meant…what you asked earlier." Sara crooked a finger at him. "Come here." As she lay back against the pillows, he crawled up alongside her, mindful of her belly. She guided him down for a kiss that took his breath away. "When we're ready, ask me again."

Grissom slid his arms around her, drawing her close. He closed his eyes; her body might have changed since he last held her like this, but she still fit perfectly. Maybe they weren't there yet.

But they were on their way.

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	28. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I don't know if this will be the last chapter before Christmas, but if it is, let me just wish everyone the happiest of holidays, whichever one you might celebrate. Thank you for all your kind words and support, especially my beta, PhDelicious, and my chat buddies, who I miss. Take care, and enjoy!

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

April 2007

_"Where to, mister?"_

_It took Grissom's mind a few seconds to register the question the cab driver posed to him, and another few seconds for his mouth to put together a response. In retrospect, drinking all of his leftover beer while he was packing the last of his things probably wasn't the smartest of ideas. He had hoped it would make his departure smoother by keeping him from really dwelling on all the reasons why he was leaving._

_But his plan had backfired. Instead of blurring his mind enough so that he would forget what else was happening that day, the alcohol had only heightened his awareness of it, making it impossible for him to think about anything else._

_"Berkshire Gardens." He mumbled off the name he'd heard a hundred times around the lab in the preceding weeks._

_His eyes closed as the cab started off. He should have finished off the whiskey too, instead of pouring it down the drain._

_There was not a single good reason why he should make an appearance at Sara and Nick's wedding, unless you counted the fact that he had been invited._

Mr. Nicholas Stokes and Ms. Sara Sidle request the honor of your presence at their marriage…

_He hadn't RSVPed. He'd gotten drunk and lit the invitation on fire._

_In his darkest moments, he wondered if she'd sent the embossed card with the sole purpose of cutting him clean to the bone. But in his moments of clarity, he remembered that Sara was many things, but cold-hearted wasn't one of them._

_She deserved a goodbye, some closure to their relationship. He owed her so much more, but this was one last thing he could do for her._

_Grissom glanced at the clock on the cab's dashboard. The ceremony was over. Sara was married to Nick now. Soon she would be giving birth to his baby. And he would be boarding a plane in a few hours that would take him to a new life, halfway across the country._

_His whole world was upside down, and it was all he could do to hang on for the ride._

_The cab pulled up to the Gardens, and Grissom dug out a fifty dollar bill from his wallet. "I won't be long," he said. "Keep the meter running."_

_As he came into the open air garden, he could hear the string quartet Sara had complained to Catherine about in the break room; it had been Nick's mother's idea, not hers. Regardless, he couldn't help but enjoy the music. He was a sucker for Beethoven._

_Grissom slipped into the festivities unnoticed, and began looking for a woman in white. But the only white he could see was from the flower arrangements. They, too, were of Nick's mother's choosing, if he remembered correctly._

_He noticed a dense flock of women, and as several of them shifted places, Grissom caught a glimpse of her. Soft curls framed her face. She was smiling, but even from a distance, he knew it was forced. He began to move towards her, but something held him back._

_Blinking, he registered what was stopping him. Warrick removed his hand from Grissom's shoulder, and folded his arms over his tuxedo. "You're a little late, Gris." He sniffed the air. "And a little drunk."_

_"I was invited." He swallowed heavily. "I just want to say goodbye."_

_"You could have done that at the party we threw for you. You know…the one you didn't show up for?"_

_"No cake in the breakroom, Warrick."_

_"Yeah. I remember." Warrick shook his head. "I'll get Nick."_

_The beer made him scowl more than he really wanted to at that. "I don't want to talk to Nick. Just Sara."_

_"That's not my call, man."_

_"It's not Nick's either," Grissom snapped. "She married him; she didn't become his property."_

_With less-than-friendly encouragement, Warrick guided him back to the entrance, and to his dismay, he lost sight of Sara. Lowering his voice, his former CSI said, "Whatever's going on with you, you better get over it quick. This is my friend's wedding day. And you're not gonna ruin it. You had your shot with her. Didn't you?" Looking into Grissom's eyes, something made him pause for a moment. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back"_

_It seemed like he waited forever, but eventually Nick came around the corner. His tux was as impeccable as his best man's. He'd let his hair grow out a bit for the wedding, claiming that he didn't want his kids to wonder who was the bald guy with their mom in the wedding photos. He had his hands casually buried in his pockets as he walked. And he looked happy._

_Grissom understood that happiness. It came from being the man Sara Sidle loved. He just hadn't appreciated that it was a part of his life until it was gone._

_"Gris," Nick greeted him. "Welcome. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"_

_Over the many long weeks since Sara had announced her pregnancy and her engagement, Grissom had tried very hard not to fester hatred in his heart for this man. He was a pupil, a colleague, even a friend. He hadn't tricked Sara into bed; she had gone willingly. And he hadn't turned his back on either her or the child they'd created together. He was doing everything Grissom hadn't been able to. He was living the life Grissom had thrown away._

_That, in and of itself, made it almost impossible for Grissom to look at him anymore._

_"I want to see her."_

_Silence stretched between them for a few long moments, save for the sounds of the reception, the cadence of the violin and the tinkle of laughter. "I wish she wanted to see you, too." The look Grissom gave him prompted Nick to go on. "There's things you two still need to say to each other, I think. But it's her day. And if she doesn't want to see you…I gotta ask you to leave."_

_"She invited me."_

_Nick shook his head. "I invited you."_

_His mind was still clouded with beer. It was the only explanation for his behavior. "I don't believe you," Grissom spat out. "She knows I'm leaving. She wouldn't let me go without saying goodbye." He jabbed a finger at Sara's husband. "Did you even tell her I'm here? Does she even know?"_

_"I wouldn't start my marriage out on a lie."_

_"Are you sure she would say the same thing, Nicky?"_

_"Gris…don't do this. Don't leave like this." Nick's eyes pleaded with him, but he wasn't thinking clearly enough to recognize the look until the younger man reached out and grasped his arm. "You have every right to be upset. But trust me…" Their stares met, and Nick's grip tightened a bit, reassuringly. "I'll take care of her." _

_For a second, his words broke through Grissom's intoxication. He would later wish that he could have said something to Nick in that moment, given him some sort of pardon, although he'd committed no sin, or at least said his own goodbyes to the man he would never speak to again._

_But all he did was shake off Nick's hand with a strangled snarl. "It's all your fault."_

_Nick's Adam's apple bobbed as he drew back. "Good luck in Tennessee," he said quietly. "You'll be missed." With that, he turned around and walked back to his reception. Back to his bride._

_The cab was still waiting for him when he finally returned. Sliding into the backseat, Grissom took one last look at the gardens before he addressed the driver. "McCarran," he ordered. "As quickly as possible, please."_

_"Eager to get out of Vegas?" the man asked._

_He shook his head against the seat. "Here…there. It doesn't really matter anymore."_

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Sara was surprised when she had to excuse herself from an autopsy in order to find a restroom. Her morning sickness, if it could even be called that due to its tendency to appear at all hours of the day, had mostly passed after the first trimester. Now, early in the third, it was nothing short of rudely inconvenient.

Fortunately she had the good sense to keep some crackers in the break room. With her stomach now empty, she retrieved them, and together with some seltzer water, the nausea began to fade.

Warrick came looking for her after Dr. Robbins was done outlining their victim's cause of death. He poured himself a cup of coffee…which she would have killed for…and sat down next to her on the couch.

"I'm fine," she told him before he could ask.

He sipped and nodded. "I know."

"This just one of those times when I wish the human gestation period more closely resembled the field mice's." Sara rubbed a hand over her belly. "I'm sorry I bailed on you back there."

"Come on, girl. Do you really think I'm here to bust on you for that?"

She lowered her chin and smiled. "No."

"Bailed on me…please," Warrick scoffed. "You could give birth any second."

"Feels like it, but there's still a lot of time left." Sara glanced at him. "You and I haven't really talked about…any of this. Have we?"

"Well." He took another sip. "You've been busy."

A blush she couldn't quite explain crept over her cheeks. He didn't even have to elaborate, and she knew exactly what, or more specifically who, he was talking about.

They had decided to be just as subtle about their rediscovered relationship as they had been the first time around. The only difference now was that she was the one who wanted their secret kept, and he wanted run out and tell everyone. Although she had to wonder if the discretion she thought they were exercising was nothing more than an illusion. If Warrick knew, who else had figured it out?

She told herself that there were reasons why they had to maintain that discretion. But hadn't Grissom had his own reasons two years earlier?

"I've been…" Sara swallowed. The words were sitting in her throat. Why was it so hard to give breath to everything her heart so freely felt?

Because the man sitting next to her represented the man she'd buried only months earlier. Nick's family would speak from their own hearts about Nick; as his best friend, Warrick would actually speak for Nick.

She tried again. "I've been seeing someone." It was a partial truth, and the name she didn't say lingered between them as clearly as if she'd actually spoken it.

Warrick nodded again. "Yeah."

"I didn't mean for it to happen," she said in a great rush, as if ridding her chest of a long-sustained weight. "Or maybe I did." He waited for her to go on which she did after a long, painful minute passed. "I've betrayed him." His face remained a blank slate as he drank his coffee. "He hasn't even been…gone a year and I'm…" She bit her lip. "…with someone else." Her vision blurred over with hot tears. "What the hell am I doing?" She looked at him. "Warrick?"

"Are you asking me? What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to say it's okay? Give you permission?"

"I don't know!"

Warrick's expression softened. "Sara…" He reached for her hand. "I'm not Nick. I think you need me to speak for him or something. But I can't do that."

Sara looked at him with wet eyes. "Would he hate me?"

"Stop. Remember Nick…and then think about what you just asked."

She nodded slowly. "He would want me to be happy."

"Damn straight." Warrick paused. "But Sara…he'd also want me to keep you from getting hurt again."

"I won't get hurt again," she said a little too quickly. "I won't. Really. Everything's changed now."

"Sure," he conceded. "Just playing devil's advocate here though…changed doesn't always mean different."

There was something unsettling about the way he said this. It was hard enough dealing with the fact that he'd figured out she was sleeping with Grissom. But he was talking about her things in her life with more clarity than she possessed. And she had to ask, "Warrick, just how much do you know? Everything?"

He took a moment to reply. "I know what Nick knew."

"And what was that?"

Warrick pulled his hand away from hers. "Well…he knew Cassie wasn't his." He gave her a second to process this in shocked silence. "He asked me to run a DNA test a few months before he died. When it didn't match him…there was really only one other candidate."

She closed her eyes. It was worse than she could have imagined. "That's around the time Grissom said Nick called him in Tennessee." Opening them again, she asked, "Was he going to tell him?"

"I didn't know he made that call. If I had to guess though, I'd say…he wanted Grissom to know the truth. And to do with that information what he would. Even if that meant losing you, which was pretty much his worst nightmare."

Her tears were unstoppable now. "He was afraid of losing me?"

"Sara…he knew that he never really had you."

He spoke without malice or accusation, so it must have been the plain and simple truth behind the words that sliced her heart open.

There was only one truth with which she could stifle her own guilt. "He didn't die unloved," she whispered.

"Then…" Warrick put his arm around her shoulders. "…that's all that matters."

Sara tried to relax against him. Her stomach still rolled and churned, although it had little to do with the baby now.

"Things really are going to be different this time," she said out loud a few minutes later. "They have to be." A frightening thought came to her. "Or else…I'm my mother."

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	29. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. If this is the last chapter of this story in 2006, I wish everyone very happy and safe New Year's tidings. I have to give massive, massive thanks to mingsmommy, who stepped in at the last moment and played beta for this chapter. You rock, hon;) As do all of you who've read and reviewed this past year, making it a very special 365 days! See you in 2007!

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

October 1984

_"Oh no! No, no, no!!"_

_Sara looked up from her math homework. Something was burning, and the smoke drifting into the den made her eyes water. Placing her half-finished worksheet inside her textbook, Sara went to investigate._

_"Mom?" In the kitchen, her mother was waving an oven mitt over the roasting pan, but it wasn't doing anything to help matters. "What happened?"_

_There was panic in her mother's eyes when she faced her daughter. "Your father's going to be home in ten minutes."_

_Sara's first instinct was to grab her books and run upstairs, but she was thirteen now. It was time to start acting like an adult. "I'll open some windows," she said. "And we'll figure out something else for dinner."_

_Laura shook her head as Sara went around, cracking the kitchen windows. "He'll smell the smoke. He'll know."_

_"We've got some macaroni," Sara said, determined to stay calm. "And there's cheese and milk. I could make mac and cheese."_

_"He wanted pot roast tonight," her mother said, ignoring her. "He told me this morning. He'll be expecting it."_

_"He likes macaroni and cheese." She opened the fridge and started pulling out ingredients. "Mom?" Sara looked over her shoulder. "Mom!" Finally, Laura blinked and focused on her daughter. "I need help."_

_Laura nodded, slightly at first, then with more confidence. "He does like macaroni and cheese," she said almost to herself. "We can have roast tomorrow."_

_They worked together for ten minutes, Sara grating the cheese, and Laura mixing milk, sour cream and eggs. _

_But no sooner had they put the casserole dish into the oven then they both heard the familiar sound of a rambling pick-up truck pulling up to the house. The engine shut off, the door slammed shut and gravel crunched under a pair of boots._

_Sara licked the corner of her lip nervously. If they ended up at the hospital that night, she'd at least have a quiet place to finish her homework._

_Her father entered the house. He wasn't a big man, but his presence filled every corner, overwhelmed every inch of space. It was almost harder to breathe when he was there, like he used up all of the oxygen._

_So Sara held her breath when he strode into the kitchen, and consequently couldn't smell familiar scent of alcohol. He stopped, looked around suspiciously, and sniffed the air._

_"Did you burn something, Laura?" he asked, unnaturally calm._

_The lull before the storm._

_Laura twisted the wedding band around her finger. "The roast. Sweetie, I'm sorry. I…"_

_She never got to finish her sentence. The back of his hand connected with her cheek, and the sharp sound of the blow, and her mother's gasp as her head twisted to the side, echoed in Sara's ears._

_Her father loomed over her mother, and Sara found that she couldn't move. "How hard is it to cook a fucking pan of meat?" he roared. "Are you so stupid that you can't even manage that?"_

_Blood trickled from the corner of her mother's mouth. "I'm sorry! There's macaroni and cheese, and…"_

_The second blow was less forceful, but just as accurate. Sara heard the crunch of cartilage as her mother's nose broke. There were tears streaming down her own face as her father continued to scream obscenities. But when he raised his fist for a third blow, she sprung to life._

_"It was my fault!" Sara yelled. Stopping just in time, her father turned his head and looked at her. "It was my fault," she repeated. "I burned the roast."_

_"Sara…no," Laura whispered._

_But she plunged ahead. "Mom told me to take it out of the oven when the timer went off, but I…I was doing my homework and I didn't hear it and…" She swallowed. "It was an accident, Daddy." Her hands trembled; she clenched them into tight fists against her sides. "Don't hit Mom anymore."_

_Sara kept her eyes trained on her father as he advanced on her. She searched his face for some sign of the man she still loved, but found nothing there but the stuff of nightmares._

_She didn't even feel the first slap, but she heard the curses he hurled at her. "Got your head so far in your fucking books." He slapped her again on the other cheek. "Like to think you're smarter than everyone else." He pushed her hard, slamming her against the wall. "You still got one lesson to learn." He grabbed her under the chin, and suddenly, she really couldn't breathe. "This is my house, little bitch. And in my house, you…"_

_He froze with his fingers wrapped around her throat. His eyes grew wide; his mouth slackened. His grip relaxed and Sara slid out of his grasp, coughing wildly, desperate to get air into her lungs. When she finally looked up, she saw a glint of silver as her mother pulled the knife she'd used to cut up the roast out of her husband's back._

_Her father crumpled to the ground, but something had taken hold of Laura. She brought the knife down once, twice, three times._

_And then there was blood. Great spurts at first, then just spatter flying off the knife. A hot spray of it caught Sara across her throbbing cheek. Her mother was painted with it, but still she kept on._

_She only stopped when Sara uttered a quiet, "Mommy."_

_Laura sat back, gripping the slippery knife. Her chest rose and fell with exertion. There was nothing in the kitchen that wasn't touched by blood. And the source of it all lay in the middle of a great puddle, barely recognizable as a human being anymore, much less something to fear._

_They sat in silence until the timer on the oven went off. Laura got up, turned it off and took the macaroni and cheese out. The counter she set it on was sticky with blood._

_It sat there, untouched, as her mother called the police. In the thirty minutes it took them to reach the house, it grew stone cold. One of the first cops on the scene took one look at it sitting in the middle of a slaughter, and threw up all over the living room rug._

_The social worker arrived before the cops put the handcuffs on her mother. In those last few moments, Laura embraced her, drawing her close and holding her tight. Sara closed her eyes, and breathed her mother's scent._

_They were broken apart by the social worker, who gently, but firmly pulled Sara away. Unable to do anything else, Sara gripped the woman's hand for dear life._

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Laura came out of Cassie's room after tucking her in for the night and bumped into Sara as she came down the hallway.

"Oh!" Laura laughed at her own jittery nerves. "You startled me. I thought you were…" She stopped before she named the place her daughter usually was, or the man who lived there. "…out."

Sara's hand rested on the mound of her stomach. "Not tonight."

"Are you feeling all right?" Frowning, she asked, "More nausea?"

"Some today," Sara admitted.

"That's something you must have inherited from me. I was sick with both you and Adam, almost every day until you two were born."

"I don't know if morning sickness is genetic," Sara sighed wearily. "But if it is…thanks for nothing."

"You should be lying down," Laura said. "You spend too much time on your feet."

"I'm fine." Moving past her, Sara opened the door to the nursery and peeked inside. "She's asleep," she reported with a tired smile. She approached Cassie's crib and looked down at the wonder that lay on her back, her thumb plugging up her sweet mouth. "Everything else can fall apart, but this is one thing I did right."

"What's falling apart, Sara?"

Her daughter shook her head. "Maybe nothing." She was quiet for a long moment. "I need to know something. Why did you fall in love with my father?" Glancing over her shoulder, she continued, "You were in love with him, right?"

Years of counseling enabled Laura to answer honestly. "In an entirely unhealthy way, yes."

"What made it unhealthy?"

"Sara, what good does it do to…"

"Mom." Laura set her hand against her chest. Hearing that one word coming from her daughter after so many months, so many years, was a shot of pure joy straight to her heart. "I really need to know."

Sinking into the nursery rocking chair, Laura rubbed her temple for a few moments as she collected her thoughts. "I fell in love with him before I really knew him. And when I found out what it was I'd fallen for, it was too late." She hesitated. "I let him convince me that my life was worthless without him. Or maybe I convinced myself. Either way…I made him my whole world."

She heard Sara sniff softly. "But you had us."

"And I should have realized that a long time before that night." Her hands were trembling now, almost as much as they had when she'd reached for the knife lying in the dish drainer. "I wish I could say I regretted killing him. But I can't. My only regret…absolutely my only regret, Sara, was that you saw it all."

"I didn't go crazy," Sara said as nonchalantly as possible. "I didn't turn into a sociopath."

"Through the grace of God," Laura said, pressing her finger to her lips. "You have no idea how proud I am of you. Sometimes I just stop and look at you…and I can't believe I had any part at all in bringing you into this world."

"I know the feeling." Sara reached into the crib and brushed her daughter's curls back from her face. There was silence in the room for several painfully long minutes. Finally, she spoke. "I almost had an abortion." Laura's mouth fell open in a silent gasp, but she let her daughter go on. "When I found out I was pregnant with her, everything was such a mess. I thought I'd just…simplify things. And there was also…" Sara stopped.

"Also what?"

"What I was afraid I'd pass on to her."

Swallowing heavily, Laura quietly asked, "So what stopped you?"

"I remembered something about that night. His hands around my throat." She paused. "You killed him to protect me." Laura looked down at her lap as Sara went on. "You never told the police or the lawyers…why?" She shook her head. "You were defending me. You probably wouldn't have gone to jail, and we would have stayed together. Adam might not have slipped away from us." She shook her head. "Why didn't you tell them?"

"Whatever it was that pushed me over the edge, Sara, I still killed him. And I deserved to be punished for it. And you deserved a second chance at a real childhood. Which you got." Tears flooded Laura's eyes. "Adam was gone a long time before that night. Don't think I don't carry that scar on my heart. No mother who loses a child ever stops mourning for them. But you…you grew up to be the woman I wish I could have been, the mother I wish I'd been to you." She shook her head back and forth. "And I'm sorry, Sara. I'm so sorry that I missed most of your life because of what I did…or didn't do until it was too late. Nothing I do from now until the day I die could make up for any of it." She took a calming breath. "But I'm going to try, Sara. I am going to try."

When her daughter turned around, moisture had gathered in the corners of her own eyes. "You came here when I needed you. You stayed when I told you I didn't need you." She lifted her shoulders. "You're the reason why I have Cassie in my life." At Laura's puzzled look, Sara continued, "I didn't have the abortion because I remembered that when it came down to my life or my father's…you chose me. That took strength." She paused. "Something I hope you passed to me. And that I can pass to her."

Laura stood up and crossed to her daughter. This time she didn't stop herself from taking Sara's hands in hers.

Holding her daughter's hands after so many years would have been more than enough for Laura. So when Sara put her arms around her, she froze for a moment. The hug was a bit awkward with Sara's protruding belly, but Laura wouldn't have pulled away for all of the money in the world.

She brought one hand up to cradle the back of Sara's neck, stroking her hair like she had when she was a little girl. The gentle movement caused her daughter to cling to her; Laura felt the warmth of her daughter's frustrated tears soaking through her shirt.

It didn't take long for Sara to put her anxiety into words. As she poured out her heart, talking about Nick and Gil and the mix of emotions and memories, both good and bad, and her fears about the future, Laura took it all in quietly. The fact that Sara was drawing parallels between her relationship with Gil and Laura's own marriage had her worried. When she finally spoke, she only had two questions for her daughter.

"Would you leave if he hit you?"

"In a heartbeat," she replied without hesitation.

"Can you live without him?"

Sara lifted her head from her mother's shoulder. "Yes." She bit her lip for a second. "But I don't want to anymore."

Laura brushed leftover tears off her daughter's cheeks with her thumb. "Then…you'll never become me. And thank God for it."

"But what if things go wrong again?" For a second, she was thirteen again. Scared and in need of her mother.

"Whatever happens, I'll be here," she said. "I made a promise to you a long time ago. It's time I started keeping it."

As it turned out, Laura had the opportunity to make good on her new pledge two weeks later when the phone rang one afternoon. Sara was upstairs, napping with Cassie, so she answered with a polite, "Hello?"

"Is Sara Sidle there?" a young woman on the other end immediately asked. Laura recognized the slur in the caller's words; it still sent a chill down her spine.

"May I ask who's calling?"

"I'm…she doesn't know me. But we both know someone else." The girl blew out a breath that Laura instinctively knew was probably gin-soaked. "Look, I'd really like to talk to her if she's there."

Laura had gleaned enough details over the months to have a fairly good idea who was calling her daughter. And Sara had been right. The Southern accent was overkill. "Reese?" she asked.

There was a pause. "How do you know my name?"

"How do you know my daughter's?" Laura countered.

"He…he used to talk about her all the time." Reese paused again. "You're not going to let me talk to her, are you?"

"The odds aren't good."

"I have things to say to her."

"I have no doubt," Laura said as she took a seat on the couch. "But here's the thing. Whatever it is that you're dying to tell my daughter, I absolutely guarantee you that it's not going to change anything."

She could almost feel the girl's eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing you could tell Sara could possibly be worse than what she's come up with her in her own mind. And if she can live with her imagination, and still love the man you think you have in common, then she doesn't need to know your truth, whatever it might be."

"But I…"

Laura crossed her legs and switched the phone to her other ear. "From what I understand, you're very, very young. You'll get over it. Go find yourself a nice boy your own age. Leave the older men to women who are grown up enough to handle them."

There was a spark of anger in Reese's reply. "You can't just brush me off like I'm nothing!"

"Sweetheart." Laura lowered her voice. "I spent six years in the California Women's Correctional Center for stabbing someone to death. Don't tick me off."

There was a click on the other end, then silence. Smiling, Laura hung up the phone and headed for the stairs. She lingered at the open door into her daughter's room. Sara was curled up on the bed with Cassie. She rested peacefully, a rare occurrence now that her due date was so close. But with her daughter snuggled up against her huge belly, Sara slept with a smile.

Instead of joining them, Laura got a book from her room, came back, and sat in the recliner, keeping watch over the most precious things in her life.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	30. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I owe ice cream to the following people: PhDelicious, mingsmommy and CSINut214 for all of their help with this chapter. I woudln't have gotten here without you, ladies. And, of course, I owe many, many thanks to everyone reading this. Enjoy!

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Nine months earlier

_"Cassie's awake."_

_Sara acknowledged Nick's observation with a sleepy murmur, muffled by her pillow. She knew that this was her cue to drag herself out of bed and attend to her child, but she was lethargic that morning, having gotten little sleep. And Nick had no one to blame for that but himself._

_She stretched, and the slide of cotton against her skin still made her nerves dance with pleasure. Her whole body felt electrified, sparked by his ardent lovemaking during the night. He was always a good lover, but this time had been different. Something in his eyes had thrilled her like never before, and it had been a struggle to keep up with him. But well worth the effort._

_Sara listened for the baby monitor. If she'd heard crying, she would have gotten up. But all she heard was her daughter's nonsensical babbles. She turned over onto her other side to face her husband. "How come you are, too?"_

_His head rested on his muscled arm as he replied, "I couldn't sleep."_

_"And here I thought I did a good job at wearing you out."_

_Nick smiled when her lower lip protruded dramatically. "You did, sweetheart," he assured her. "I just have that case on my mind, you know?"_

_"The poisoning?" she correctly guessed. "That's a tough one. How old was the little boy?"_

_"Cassie's age." Without warning, he pushed off the covers and got out of bed. "I know it was the dad. I just have to prove it."_

_"You will," Sara told him with confidence. "Come back to bed."_

_But he'd already put on his robe. "I'll take care of breakfast," he said. At the door, Nick looked back at her. "I think I'm going in to work for a few hours later. Do you mind?"_

_Sara bit her tongue before she could remind him that it was their day off. "It's okay. I understand."_

_Eventually, she managed to get up as well, although she could have lain there all day. The sheets were hopelessly tangled, but still warm from the heat their bodies had created when they met time and again the night before._

_By the time Sara had showered and dressed, Nick was almost done giving Cassie her breakfast of pancakes and applesauce._

_"Mama!" Cassie announced Sara's arrival. She banged on the tray of her high chair with her spoon._

_Sara stopped to kiss the little girl's forehead before heading straight for the coffee pot. It was strong and freshly brewed, and she shot her husband a grateful smile as she took her first sip._

_"One more bite, Cassie," Nick said, pointing to a small triangle of pancake sitting on her tray. "One more and you can get down."_

_Cassie grasped the piece in her hand and held it out to him._

_"No," he said with a smile. "I have my own pancake. That's yours. You eat it." She pouted at him, much the same way Sara had earlier, and he laughed. "Like mother, like daughter."_

_"Maybe she'd eat hers if you'd eat yours."_

_Nick looked down at his cold pancake. "I'm not really hungry this morning."_

_Sara came up behind his chair and touched his cheek with the back of her hand. "Are you feeling okay?"_

_"I'm fine." Nick grasped her hand and brought it around to his mouth where he kissed the center of her palm. "I'm fine," he repeated._

_Worry tugged at her heart, but unable to clearly identify a reason for it, Sara let it go. She was at the stove with her back to him when he started rubbing his left arm. By the time she turned around, he had stopped._

_While he dressed for work, Sara got both Cassie and the kitchen cleaned up. She was fighting the daily battle with her daughter about keeping socks on her tiny feet when he came into the nursery to say goodbye._

_Sara gave up on Cassie's socks for a moment, letting the little girl toddle to her father on bare feet. "Dada!"_

_Instead of lifting her up like he usually did, Nick knelt down to her level and pulled her up into his arms. He closed his eyes briefly before kissing her cheek._

_"Love you, baby-bug," he whispered. When he straightened up, he looked at Sara. "I'm going."_

_Sara made a grab for Cassie and held her leg immobile as she tugged one sock on. "Will you be here for dinner?"_

_"I'll try." Nick lingered in the doorway. "I love you, Sara."_

_Glancing up, she flashed him a brief, distracted smile. "Love you, too."_

_A moment passed; Sara could feel Nick still watching them struggle over the socks. "I think you're losing," he said softly. "She's got her mind made up."_

_"So impossible!" Giving in, Sara tickled her daughter's feet, making her scream with laughter. "Like father, like daughter!"_

_When she looked up, Nick gave her strangely sad smile. "Yeah." He took a step back. "Bye."_

_"Hey!" Sara stood up, with Cassie clinging to the leg of her jeans. "Where's my hug?"_

_Nick hesitated before crossing to her. He reached out and cupped her face, bringing their lips together in lingering kiss._

_"Don't work too hard," she told him after they broke apart. She shook her head suddenly, as she realized what she'd said. "I know. That makes me the pot and you the kettle." Sara slipped her arms around him and gave his torso a light squeeze. "Call me later about dinner."_

_"I will," he promised._

_But the next call Sara got came from Catherine._

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The room was freezing, and the first thought Grissom had as he emerged from a dreamless sleep was that he hoped the nurses had given Sara enough blankets.

Before he even opened his eyes, he winced in pain. Falling asleep in a chair wasn't a good idea at twenty-five. At fifty-three, it was downright cruel to his entire body, and every stiff muscle screamed at him to get up and move.

But he remained rooted to the spot because he wouldn't have interrupted the scene in front of him for the world.

Propped up in bed by several pillows, Sara cradled her hours-old son against her breast. She didn't seem aware of anything else in the room except her baby as he looked up at her with brand-new eyes.

The birth had been, without a doubt, the most incredible experience of Grissom's life. It was one thing to read about it in textbooks, or to watch carefully edited video footage on TLC. It was something else entirely to be there through the whole process, starting from the moment Sara had shaken him awake and quietly informed him she was having contractions.

Cassie's birth might have been efficient, but this baby took his time making an appearance. It took eighteen hours of hard labor, most of which Grissom spent alternating between pacing furiously and holding Sara's hand, before the baby finally arrived in a finale that was equal parts exhilarating and nauseating.

But after it was all over, there was a new person in the world. A little boy with a tuft of stick-straight black hair who came out kicking and screaming, and had only settled down when he was placed in his mother's arms. And all Grissom had been able to do was sit back and watch.

Now, he still found himself in the role of voyeur as Sara rocked Nick's son and began to speak to him in a low, soothing voice.

"Well, here you are." She adjusted a fold of the blanket around the baby's head. "What do you think of the world so far?" He made a little noise that was halfway between a hiccup and a cough. "Yeah, I know. It's been a rough couple of hours. But you're healthy…and perfect." A tear fell off the tip of her nose. "And you look so much like Nick."

Grissom lowered his eyes. She wasn't wrong about that. The little boy would grow up to be a miniature copy of Nick. He was glad. No one would question who had fathered him.

"I wish he was here," Sara said, and Grissom's heart lurched. "He'd be so proud of you." The baby whimpered. "Someday, I'll tell you all about your dad," she promised. "And I know that you'll be proud of him, too."

When Grissom looked up again, he met her eyes. If she was upset about him overhearing her, she didn't show it. In fact, she gave him a tired smile and held out her hand.

Ignoring the parts of his body that had gone numb from sitting in one position too long, he stood up and crossed over to her, pulling up a chair to sit down beside the bed.

"He needs a name," Sara murmured. "Any thoughts?"

"You're not going to name him after Nick?"

She was quiet for a second. "Nick wouldn't want that. He'd want his son to have his own name, his own identity." She paused. "His middle name can be Nicholas. But his first needs to be something that's only his." Sara looked at him. "What was your father's name?"

"Bernard."

Her nose crinkled. "No. Sorry."

Grissom laughed. The sudden noise made the baby wave his arm. Without thinking, Grissom reached out and touched his soft palm. The infant's delicate little fingers closed around his pinkie.

And just like Catherine had described it with Nick and Cassie, the baby had him.

Putting the name issue aside for a moment, Sara lowered her head to the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. Grissom's eyes went back and forth between her and the boy for a minute before settling on her. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"No." Sara took her time continuing. "Warrick told me awhile back that Nick knew Cassie wasn't his. Not when she was born, but later." She blinked and tears cascaded down her cheeks. "And it didn't change how he felt about her in the slightest."

Grissom looked back at the baby. His eyes were drooping, and in the space of just a few seconds, he was sound asleep. "And you're wondering if I could ever love this child knowing that he's not mine."

"Not just that," she said. "But knowing that as soon as he's old enough, he'll be told that he's not yours. I have no idea how he'll react to that. He could hate you or me or both of us. Or it might not matter to him at all. I need to know if you're willing to accept any future…consequences for our actions."

"Honey, you gave birth a few hours ago. You don't have to think about these things now."

"Yes, I do." Sara lifted her head. "I have to. Before we go any further. We're not just messing with our lives anymore, Gil. We have two totally innocent children that we have to factor into whatever decisions we make. Hurting each other was bad enough. But we're not going to hurt them. Ever."

"I'm really glad you said 'we'." Breaking eye contact with her, Grissom looked down at his finger. Even in sleep, the baby hadn't let go. "And I hear you, Sara. I do." He brushed his thumb over the child's knuckles. "But as for me loving him…you don't need to worry."

Her chin trembled. "I see that."

"My feelings for you and him and Cassie…they aren't going to change with time. So we'll take however much we need. All right?"

Sara nodded. "Okay."

Grissom leaned forward and kissed her softly, just as he had when the baby was placed in her arms. "Now, I think you should give this kid a name."

"I had a whole list," she said. "But now that I see him, none of them really fit." She thought for a second. "You name him."

He blinked. "Sara, I…"

"I'm serious. I want you to name him. Just…not after your father." When he continued to hesitate, Sara reached out and took his free hand. "Please?"

It was a burden of responsibility she was putting on him, but with that came the most amazing feeling, the weightlessness that came with being trusted. She trusted him again. With her children and with her heart.

After much consideration, Grissom named his choice.

Soon, it was official, and the baby's new name was given to the nurses who would print his birth certificate. Laura arrived with Cassie a little while later. Although Sara had tried to prepare her daughter for the baby's arrival, it was clear that the little girl hadn't completely understood what mommy's big tummy was all about.

Grissom reached for her and sat her on his knee. "Cassie," he said. "This is your baby brother, Ryan."

"Ryan?" Laura asked.

"Ryan Nicholas Stokes," Sara said with a smile.

Laura came around to the other side of the bed, and touched her grandson's soft hair. "Why Ryan?"

"My mother's maiden name," Grissom told her.

Cassie clung to Grissom, staring suspiciously at the strange thing in her mother's arms. "Wy-an." She looked up at him for approval. When he nodded, she reached out to the baby.

With a nod from Sara, Grissom set Cassie down on the bed next to her. "Be careful," Sara told her. "Be very careful with the baby."

Cassie gently stroked the baby's head. "Wy-an." She beamed at her mother. "My Wy-an."

Grissom smiled. "She likes him. And here you were worried about sibling rivalry, honey."

Laura laughed as she started rearranging the flowers that had already begun arriving from family and friends. "Give it time. Adam was totally in love with Sara until she spit up on him."

Sara was still watching Cassie as she patted her little brother's cheeks. Without taking her eyes off her children, she felt for Grissom's hand, and laced her fingers through his.

Much later, after Laura took Cassie home and Sara fell asleep, Grissom returned to his chair, only this time with Ryan in his arms.

"Your mom is going to tell you all of this when you're older," he said to the child. "But I'm going to tell you some things now. About eleven years ago, this very young, eager, smart person entered my life." He paused. "And even though your dad thought I was teaching him…." Grissom shook his head. "…from right then until right now, he's been teaching me."

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To Be Continued


	31. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: To follow.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The Last Embrace

by Kristen Elizabeth

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

October 2006

_"Hey…where are you?"_

_Grissom looked down at the lithe body beneath him. He had never felt uncomfortable between her thighs, but tonight he felt like dead weight, pushing her further into the mattress. Although he could see an occasional shiver of pleasure shake through her, she was nowhere near the kind of grand finale he was used to giving her._

_And it frightened him. _

_"I'm right here," she told him._

_Grissom shook his head. She released a silent breath when he pulled out and lay down beside her. He scrubbed his hands up and down his face. "I know you're upset," he eventually said._

_"Why would I be upset?" Sara folded her arms over her breasts. Her voice was flat. "It's just another trip to the Big Easy."_

_"You know I would take you if I…"_

_But she was apparently even less in the mood for platitudes than she was for sex. "I know," she cut him off. "Someday, right?"_

_There was a crack in the ceiling over the bed that Grissom had never noticed before. Now, he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from it. How long had it been there? What had caused it? How long could he put off fixing it? Would his whole ceiling collapse if he just ignored it?_

_He would be the first to admit that when it came to emotions, he was often blind, deaf and dumb. But her unhappiness was too palpable for even him to miss. She was lying only inches from him, but she might as well have been miles away._

_Grissom had no idea what to do. So he did the one thing he knew he still could._

_She was motionless until his lips reached the warm center of her body beneath the sheets. As he loved her, she slowly began to respond. He left her hanging on the edge and moved up, entering her swiftly before she could change her mind._

_Her nails dug into his skin when she came, ten little pinches of pain that he accepted as punishment. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of her tears, and let himself go within her. He lay on top of her as he caught his breath, his face buried in the curve of her neck._

_"Come back to me," he murmured into her flushed skin._

_But she must not have heard him. Because when he moved off of her, she refused to look at him._

_A second later, she got up and disappeared into the bathroom. Grissom turned his gaze up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly._

_It was one little crack. He'd do something about it when he came back from Louisiana._

* * *

June 2011

The house wasn't quite ready for the president to declare it a federal disaster area, but Sara figured that with the majority of Cassie's pre-school class running around, it was only a matter of time.

As she entered the kitchen, a little boy with flaming red hair streaked past her on his way to the den, screaming at the top of his lungs for absolutely no reason. Grissom was standing at the counter, mopping up juice with a paper towel when the child ran by.

He was still staring into the den when he she came up behind him. "Is that the one who eats paste?" he asked her, pointing at the spot where the child had disappeared.

"No," she said with a laugh. "The paste-eater is currently in the living room trying to get your daughter to kiss him."

It amused her to no end that his face paled at this. "Please tell me you're joking."

Sara shifted Ryan to her other hip. He wriggled to get down, but she held on. He was usually a good boy, but under the influence of so many other older children, he'd been more than a little naughty.

"I'm not," she told him. "But don't worry about it. Catherine's keeping an eye on the little Casanova." She sighed as Ryan began tugging on her necklace. "Would you take him? I have to get the cake ready."

Grissom tossed the soaked paper towel into the trash and lifted Ryan out of her arms. "Down?" the little boy asked him. It was hard to resist his big brown eyes, but Grissom must have realized he was being held captive for a reason. He shook his head, and Ryan's lower lip protruded as far as it would go.

"I swear, I had no idea facial expressions were genetic," Sara said as she pulled the cake out of the fridge. "But Nick used to make that exact same face when he didn't get his way."

He didn't get a chance to reply. Cassie ran into the kitchen just then, her pink princess crown tilting dangerously to one side of her head.

"Mommy!" she shouted. "Can I open presents now?"

"Inside voice, Cassie," Sara reminded her.

She dropped her voice down to the loudest whisper possible. "Can I open presents now??"

"No, we're going to have cake first." Having removed the plastic cover, Sara stuck four candles amidst the pink roses. "Come on." She lowered her voice for Grissom's ears only. "There are fifteen incarnations of the devil tearing up this house and I'm about to feed them sugar. Shoot me now."

Cassie led the way, spinning with each step to make her dress swirl around her legs. By the time they reached the dining room, their daughter had succeeded in making herself thoroughly dizzy. Grissom put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from falling down. She looked up at him with a smile that was all teeth, and he couldn't keep from lightly bopping her nose.

Sara called for her to come and blow out her candles, and Cassie abandoned her father without a look back. Draped over his arm like a dish towel, Ryan reached for the floor, repeating "down," interspersed with an occasional, "Dada."

"I can take him." Grissom turned and saw Warrick holding his hands out. Sara watched out of the corner of her eye as a moment passed between the two men. "If you want."

She bit back a smile as he passed the little boy to Warrick without hesitation. As soon as he had Ryan, Warrick shook his head. "Never ceases to amaze me," he said with wonder. "If he looks this much like him now, it's going to be like seeing a ghost in a few years."

"Yeah." Grissom slipped his hands into his pockets. "I'm glad you came."

Warrick started walking away, bouncing Ryan to make him laugh. "So am I."

Sara blinked and returned her attention to her daughter. It took Cassie several tries, but she finally extinguished all four candles. With help from Catherine and Laura, Sara managed to cut and serve cake to all of their daughter's friends.

As they chowed down, she slipped out of the dining room with an empty pitcher of juice, leaving the children to the other adults. And Greg, who she supposed counted as one.

In the kitchen as she refilled the pitcher, it was Grissom's turn to come up behind her. He caught her a little off-guard, but as soon as she realized whose arms were snaking around her waist, she relaxed against him.

"I can't believe she's four," Sara said after a moment. "I don't know where all that time went."

"I think you spent a lot of it trying to get her to keep socks on," he said, moving her hair to one side so that he could kiss the nape of her neck.

Sara let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a choked sob.

"Hey…" Grissom moved around in front of her. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." Before he could sense her lie, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers.

Sara always lost track of time when Grissom kissed her, so she wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours before her mother entered the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," Laura apologized as they broke apart. "But if that child doesn't get to open her presents soon, I think she might take prisoners."

It wasn't until that evening, long after the presents were opened and the sugar-exhausted party guests were taken home, that they found themselves alone again, save for the two children asleep on the couch between them.

Worn out from a day of non-stop excitement, Cassie was curled up against Grissom. Sara had Ryan in her lap; she was gently rocking him although he'd gone out like a light twenty minutes earlier.

The house was a wreck of cake plates, wrapping paper and plastic spoons, but the mess could wait until the morning. Through unspoken agreement, they were both going to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

Finally, Sara broke the peaceful silence by asking the question that had been on her mind throughout the party. "Are you going to go to the ceremony?"

He didn't have to ask what she was talking about. She'd spotted the invitation to the commencement exercises where Reese Callahan would be hooded as a Doctor of Anthropology the day before in a pile of mail he'd set aside to be discarded. She liked to go through his junk mail; all of her useless catalogs were for children's clothes and toys, not fun stuff like laboratory equipment and camping gear.

She'd been surprised at how the woman's name still had power over her. Jealousy and worry had started to creep into her stomach from the moment she had handed him the envelope. Only the distraction of Cassie's party had kept her from going insane as she waited for him to bring it up.

But he hadn't. So now, if she ever hoped to sleep again, it was up to her.

Cassie stirred against him; he hugged her closer to his side, losing his fingers in her tangled curls. "I'll send her a card." He lowered his lips to his daughter's forehead. "I like to think of that whole part of my life as a bad dream."

She tightened her arms around her little boy. She knew the man so well, and yet in so many ways, he was a complete mystery. "It's late. We should get them to bed."

He carried Cassie and she carried Ryan and together they got the children upstairs and into their respective bedrooms, to get them ready for the night. While Grissom was in Cassie's room getting her into her pajamas, Sara took Ryan into the nursery. Her son had his chubby fingers wrapped around her necklace again.

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. To him it was just something shiny to grab. He had no idea that his father had given her the two rings that now hung on the delicate, gold chain.

Grissom entered the nursery just as she was laying Ryan into his crib. Unlike his sister who tended to look angelic her sleep, his little brow was furrowed, as if he was fighting great battles in his dreams.

"Sara," he gently called to her. She turned her head ever so slightly to acknowledge him. "What's wrong?"

"You know I was thinking the other day…" Her hand drifted down to her chest; as she continued, she rolled the rings between her fingers. "About what I could have done differently back then. Do you ever do that?"

"No. It's a slippery slope. You change one thing and everything could unravel. Certain people wouldn't come into our lives, and…"

She cut him off. "Others might not leave."

"I think if you asked Nick, he would have rather died as a husband and a father than a single guy, alone in his apartment." She could almost see him frowning at her back. "Is this about the graduation ceremony?" Sara leaned down into the crib to adjust Ryan's blanket, but said nothing. "It almost seems like you want me to go." When she still had no reply, he came further into the room. "Do you want me to go?"

"I didn't want you to go back then. I didn't tell you and…you know." She paused. "But if I tell you now that I don't want you to go, I'm afraid we'll end up right back where we were." Sara glanced at him over her shoulder. "Does that make sense?"

Grissom nodded. "There's a very simple answer to this. I don't want to go."

Sara brushed her hand over Ryan's crown of dark hair before she turned around and walked towards him. Ushering him out of the nursery, she closed the door gently behind them.

"If she was only ever just your student, why wouldn't you go?" she quietly asked.

"Sara…" He thought for a second. "Every choice I made concerning her hurt you. Even if I wanted to go, why would I ever hurt you again?"

His answer, although completely enigmatic, was so honestly spoken that it quelled her stomach. She reached out and tugged at his collar. "That's not really an answer, you know."

"I know."

Sara pursed her lips. "You're very frustrating."

Grissom nodded. "I know."

"And I love you way too much," she whispered.

He threaded their fingers together and guided her towards the bedroom. "I know."

Later, in the dark, amidst passion-rumpled sheets, she let him pull her close. His heart beat a steady rhythm against her cheek. It was warmth, it was comfort…it was everything. And just when she thought she needed nothing more to guide her into perfect dreams, he spoke.

"I love you too much, too."

She sat up a second later. He was naked in more than one way, hiding nothing as he lay there, holding her stare with his own. She saw it all in his eyes: the past, the present, the future. And just like that, the right moment arrived.

"Ask me again," she said, huskily.

Grissom reached up to her. "Ask you what?"

Her eyes closed briefly at the touch of his hand against her cheek. "Ask me. Please."

Realization smoothed the lines on his forehead. He sat up as well, holding her face between his palms. Looking down at her now, Grissom asked, "Will you marry me?"

Sara smiled.

The next morning before he woke, she slipped out of bed and went to her dresser. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the clasp of her necklace. She curled the chain into a velvet corner of her jewelry box and carefully laid the diamond and gold bands on top of it.

She closed the lid on one precious memory, and climbed back into bed with the rest of her life.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Fin

_Author's Notes: I always feel both elated and saddened to end a story, and for some reason those feelings are heightened with this particular one. I wish I could go back and name every single person who's reviewed it, and personally thank each and every one of you, but I just have to say, I know who you all are, and I hope by now you know how much I appreciate you._

_I never would have finished this story without the incredible help of PhDelicious, who never let me down, even though I almost annoyed her to death:) I also want to acknowledge Sue and Lisa and Donna for being wonderful friends/sounding boards/cheerleaders._

_I had so much fun telling you this story. Thanks for lending me your ears. (I know I should say "eyes" here, but that seems a little weird, right?) Take care!_

_Kristen Elizabeth_


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